


Let's Pretend

by bovaria



Series: Let's Pretend [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst, Drama, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:38:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5814487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bovaria/pseuds/bovaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and the reader are neighbors and close friends. As a huge favor, Dean asks her to pretend to be his girlfriend for a family wedding and the reader agrees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Pretend

“Y/N,” Dean barged into your apartment, hair ruffled and chest heaving. He bent over, hand on his knees while trying to get his breathing back to normal. “Y/N, I need a huge favor from you.”

“Oh, God, Dean,” you sighed, closing your laptop. You were in the middle of a roll in your writing and having him interrupt didn’t exactly put you in the greatest of moods.

“M-my mom just called and,” he inhaled sharply, his breathing still erratic.

“Jesus, are you still out of breath?” you chuckled. “Damn, you gotta lay off on the beers and nachos, buddy.”

“Look, my cousin is getting married and I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend and come with me to the wedding,” he smiled widely before pouting and clasping his hands together. “Please, Y/N?”

“You’re seriously asking me this?” you couldn’t believe your ears. “It’s your family, though. Why would you even need to impress them?”

“Because he’s marrying the girl I used to date in high school,” he walked over to the couch and slumped down next to you. Heaping his arm on his forehead, Dean groaned loudly. “And I dumped her in order to move into the city and make it big, only to not succeed in doing so.”

“You want me to lie for you?” you snorted. “I mean, what’s so bad about being a mechanic and living in a loft with your brother?”

“The fact that I’m thirty, Y/N,” he rolled his eyes.

“Look, is Sam taking anyone?” you swallowed thickly. You had been crushing on the youngest Winchester for a while now, hoping to make an impression on him, only to become close friends with his older brother.

“Yeah, he met this girl like two weeks ago, it’s getting pretty serious,” Dean replied and your heart sunk. “He told mom he was gonna take her.”

“Oh,” you bit the inside of your cheek, nodding your head.

“Yeah, so, you up to being my girlfriend for the weekend?” his emerald eyes widened as he shot you a large grin.

“No,” you reached for your laptop and began to open it.

“Oh, come on,” he stomped his foot on the ground and tousled his hair in frustration. “I really need to make a great impression. Come on, Y/N. I promise I will make it fun for you.”

“Dean,” you whined.

“Sweetheart,” his voice dropped and you rolled your eyes. This was the voice he always used when trying to pick up girls. It’d usually work on them, but never with you. You had known Dean for six years and his moves had always failed when it came to you. He had stopped attempting to sleep with you after his third try and became your close friend.

“No, Dean,” you grumbled, inputting the password on your computer. Dean suddenly snatched it from your lap and slammed it closed. “Hey!” you pointed your finger at his nose, eyes threatening evil deeds if he didn’t return your laptop.

“Y/N, I’m begging you,” he pouted.

“Gosh, fine, fine,” you raised your hands. “I’ll do it, just give me back my computer.”

“Yes! Yes!” he jumped from the couch, dropping the electronic device on your lap. “Okay, okay, um, we leave tomorrow morning.”

“What?” you screeched.

“Short notice wedding, everything was done quickly,” he wrung his hands.

“Dean, I don’t even have a dress to go with,” you protested, wanting to kick him.

“We can go shopping when we’re back in my hometown tomorrow,” he suggested. “Just get packing, I’ll be here to pick you up tomorrow at 7 a.m. sharp.”

Not waiting for you to respond, he dashed out of your apartment, slamming the front door close. You suddenly regretted saying yes.

Just as promised, Dean was charging into your home by 6:55. His voice bellowed throughout the vicinity and you mumbled expletives his way, glaring at him as you pulled your suitcase with. You had packed basically everything that you could find, not really knowing what to expect. Weddings weren’t exactly frequent occasions in your life and you hardly knew how to dress for them.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Dean wrapped his arms around you and squeezed, kissing your cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, you owe me,” you patted his back and reciprocated his wide grin when he pulled away.

“VIP tickets to The Eagles concert?” he suggested, taking the handle of your luggage from you.

“Oh, yes,” you clapped your hands excitedly. “But I’ll determine the cost of this weekend after it’s over. So, prepare yourself,” you warned.

“Awesome,” he motioned towards the hallway. “Now let’s go, Sam and Jess are waiting downstairs in the car.”

“Jess?” your mouth ran dry.

“Yeah, Sam’s new girlfriend, I told you about her,” Dean scoffed. “He’s smitten. It’s disgusting, it really is.”

“I bet,” you played the hurt off by laughing along with the blond man, following him into the elevator.

Walking out of your building, you spat out the hair that had made it into your mouth from the gusts of wind blowing. Fall was quickly replacing the summer heat and you were glad that the sun wasn’t as harsh as a little over a week ago. Dean pointed to the car parked at the curb and you quickly made your way to it, getting into the passenger’s seat. After placing your suitcase into the trunk with the rest of the luggage, Dean climbed into the driver’s.

“Hey, Y/N,” you turned your head and met Sam’s eyes.

“Hey, Sam, how’s it going?” you smiled, turning your body to take a look at his new girlfriend.

“Oh, Jess, this is Y/N, our neighbor and Dean’s best friend, Y/N, this is Jess, my girlfriend,” he introduced.

“Hey, nice to meet you,” you shook Jess’ hand and realized why Sam was so enamored with her. She was beautiful and you couldn’t quite get rid of the knot in your throat at seeing the tall man looking at her with such loving eyes. Quickly getting back into your seat, you focused on the road as Dean pulled out unto the road.

“You choose the music,” he pointed at the radio.

“I’m liking this already,” you sneered, quickly putting on your favorite playlist from Spotify and closing your eyes. You could hear the giggling coming from the backseat and cringed. Before you could think of raising the volume, an equally disgusted Dean reached for the knob and turned it until music blasted from the speakers, drowning the flirtations from the backseat.

Four hours and a few rest stops later, Dean and Sam were heaving out the suitcases from the back. Jess grinned at her boyfriend, looping an arm through his and walking with him to the house Dean had pulled up to. You avoided looking at them and squinted your eyes towards the Victorian home in front of you.

“So, this is where you grew up, huh?” you followed Dean across the front lawn.

“Yep,” he smiled fondly. “This is where it all happened for me. I broke my arm swinging myself on that tree right there,” he nudged his chin towards his right.

“No way,” you laughed softly, glancing at the great oak that provided shadow for over half of the property’s front.

“Yep, friends dared me to do it,” he chuckled.

“And you’re not one to back out on a dare,” you clicked your tongue, remembering all those visits to the emergency room after Dean had gone a little too far with the challenges given to him.

“Okay, ready?” he inhaled a deep breath and you nodded your head, unsure. “Alright, let’s do this,” he held out his arm for you to hold and you accepted it, fingers squeezing his bicep.

“Oh, my—” a woman, who smelled of pies and fresh laundry flew right by you and embraced Dean, yanking him out of your hold. “Oh, baby, look at you. You’re so handsome.”

“Hey, mom,” he smiled, pecking her cheek. “How are you doing?”

“I’m just so excited to have you both here, it’s been years!” she exclaimed. Her eyes landed on you and she gasped. “And who might this be?”

“Oh, mom, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is Mary, my mom,” he moved away from his mother to wrap an arm around your waist. You stiffened in his hold and he squeezed you tighter, to which you almost stomped on his foot for.

“Oh, Y/N, welcome to our home,” she took you into her embrace and you smiled softly, returning the gesture. “This is just splendid! Both my sons and their girlfriends. We’re are going to have such a lovely time!”

“I can’t wait, Mrs. Winchester,” you chuckled.

“Alright, come on, Dean,” she squeezed your shoulders after pulling away. “Take her stuff up to your room. Now, honey, I know that you kids do a lot these days, so I won’t pretend to be strict and have you sleep in a different room.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, momma,” Dean groaned.

“Hey,” she slapped the back of his head and you couldn’t hold in the snort, quickly covering your mouth an apologizing. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” she laughed. “Dean still hasn’t learned his manners. Now why don’t you take her up to your room, baby? Get washed up. Dinner will be ready in half an hour.”

“Okay, will do,” he shook his head, avoiding another one of her smacks and laughing heartily about it. You smiled along with him, enjoying how carefree he seemed when he was around his mother.

You followed behind Dean as he made his way through the hallway, stopping at a whitewashed, wooden door with his named carved into it. You raised your eyebrows and accepted his invitation to walk in first, eyes darting everywhere as you took in Dean’s childhood bedroom.

“You were an avid Transformers fan,” Optimus Prime glared down at you from one of the posters plastered on the wall.

“They were great, okay,” he rolled his eyes, to which you laughed.

A few minutes passed by in silence as you began to unpack, Dean offering two of his drawers for your clothes and a space of his closet. There was a knock on the door before Sam burst in with Jess, the both of them smiling with each other before turning towards Dean and you.

“Are you guys up to a few board games?” he grinned. “For old time’s sake, bro,” he nudged at his older brother.

“Sure, what do you say, Y/N?” he glanced at you, eyebrows raised.

“Okay, let’s do this,” you closed the clothes drawer and walked with Dean as you both followed Sam and Jess out into the hallway. Sighing inwardly, you gnawed on your bottom lip. This was going to be a long weekend.

* * *

Sam was in the middle of taunting Dean for winning the round when Mary clapped her hands from the kitchen, announcing that dinner was ready. The younger Winchester held his hand out for Jess and she took it with a smile, the two of them giggling together as they made their way to the kitchen.

“Want to hold hands, too?” Dean nudged your side, having noticed your eyes trailing after them.

“No, Dean, shut up,” you mumbled, quickly getting on your feet.

“I’m just kidding, Y/N,” he laughed heartily as he swung an arm on your waist. “But it could help to practice, you know?”

“Stop being so weird,” you shivered, shoving his arm away. He was making to pout when you arrived to the kitchen and his nose caught the scent of the food.

“Damn, mom, you always knew how to cook up a great meal,” he clapped his palms together, rubbing them for emphasis.

“Thank you, baby,” she tilted her head and blew him a kiss.

“Yeah, mom, it looks delicious,” Sam was sitting down with Jess on one side of the table, Mary insisting that you and Dean sit right across from them.

“John said he’ll be here in a few minutes, but I bet you four are starving, so just dig in,” she motioned towards the meal set out.

“Are you sure, mom?” Dean questioned. “We can wait for dad.”

“It’s okay, sweet pea,” she took her chin in his hands and kissed his cheek. “My Dean, always so considerate of others.”

You raised a brow, impressed at this new side of Dean. Usually the man was incredibly selfish, he lived to please himself. This was a completely different side to him. He noticed you looking at him and avoided your eyes, staring at his lap and clearing his throat.

“Okay, um, let’s just eat,” without waiting for anyone’s response, Dean grabbed the mashed potatoes and began to serve himself.

“Hey, you should serve your girlfriend, sweetie,” Mary interjected. Her eldest son gave her a questioning look before realizing his mistake as she glared at him.

“Oh, oh, I’m sorry, baby,” he turned to you with a wide grin. “Want some mashed potatoes?”

“I’ll be fine serving myself,” you shot him a sarcastic sneer, grabbing the platter from him and serving yourself.

“Girlfriend?” Sam suddenly interjected. “Since when have you two been going out?”

“Um,” Dean tilted his head to look like he was thinking.

“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” you shoved his side, hard. “It’s only be a week and you’re already forgetting.”

“Sorry,” he winced, rubbing at the sore spot you had left behind. Your eyes gleamed with victory as he pouted.

“How come you didn’t correct me when I introduced you as Dean’s friend to Jess in the car?” Sam tilted his head and shot you his famous puppy dog eyes.

“Uh,” you swallowed thickly. You were never able to combat against this certain expression of his. The man was capable of asking you to slice yourself open for him with those puppy eyes and you’d give in without a moment’s hesitation.

“Damn, bro, the girl is polite and you’re putting her on the spot for not rudely correcting you,” Dean interrupted, shaking his head. He had his fork up and ready to dig into his plate. “We haven’t exactly been opened about our relationship. It’s still on the down low. I’m waiting to introduce her to everyone this weekend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Y/N,” Sam sheepishly smiled.

“It’s okay,” you assured, giggling softly.

“Wow, you kids actually waited for your father, huh?” the deep voice came from behind you and you jumped, glancing back.

“You’re home,” Mary threw her arms around the neck of a tall, built man. He smiled widely, his black beard barely being able to conceal the glowing smile as he met eyes with his wife. They kissed before the man pulled away and glanced at the table.

“Aren’t you gonna say hi to your old man?” he hollered, laughing heartily as both guys sprung up from their seats and shouted exaggerated greetings as they embraced their father. You looked on with a smile.

“Oh, dad, this is Jess,” Sam motioned towards his new girlfriend. “Jess, this is John Winchester, my dad.”

“Hi, sir, very nice to meet you,” she held out her hand to him.

“Likewise,” he shook her hand, grinning widely before his eyes met yours. “And this is?” he drawled out.

“Oh, oh, this is Y/N, _my_ girlfriend,” Dean laughed to try to conceal his surprise. He had forgotten about the whole façade you were both putting up and you held yourself back from rolling your eyes at him. Instead, you put on your widest grin and got on your feet.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” you shook his hand.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” John chuckled and squeezed your hand before promptly pulling away. “Alright, let’s get to eating, family,” he clapped his hands and rubbed them together in anticipation. You smiled to yourself, seeing Dean in his father’s actions.

“So, girls, what are you going to wear?” Mary covered her mouth halfway through the quiet meal. You looked up from your plate, ready to answer that you had absolutely nothing and needed to go shopping.

“I bought a salmon-colored evening gown,” Jess piped up. “Is that okay?” she questioned in a quiet voice.

“Oh, that’s perfect,” the guys’ mother smiled widely. “I was going to tell you two that the wedding was going to be held indoors and around 6 p.m., so wearing an evening gown is ideal.”

“I’m so excited,” Jess clapped her hands as Sam looked at her with love-stricken eyes.

“Y/N, what are you going to be wearing?” Mary turned her smile to you.

“Actually, I need to go shopping for a dress,” you winced. “Dean here told me until last night. I packed up in a hurry and I have no evening gown.”

“Oh, we’ll go shopping today,” she exclaimed excitedly.

“Thank you, Mrs. Winchester,” you reciprocated her enthusiastic expression, to which she winked at you.

The rest of the meal passed by rather quietly as everyone focused on finished their food. You followed Dean upstairs and back into his room. He was ready to collapse on the bed when you beat him to it, spreading your arms and legs opened to prevent him from lying down with you.

“Oh, come on,” Dean raised his hands at you.

“This is for forgetting that I’m your girlfriend,” you said in an over-dramatic voice.

“Look, I’m still getting used to it,” he explained.

“Relax, Dean, I’m kidding,” you laughed, nuzzling the pillow and feeling sleepiness creep into your body. “It was quite funny to see you panic. Just don’t slip-up anymore or you’ll have to explain to everyone how you got your best friend to pretend to be your girlfriend because you wanted to make an impression on the bride.”

“I’ll try not to,” he nudged your side with his knee. “Come on, scoot over. My bed is big enough for the both of us.”

“Absolutely not, I am a lady,” you exclaimed. “I do not bed those who do not hold my heart.”

“Y/N,” he rolled his eyes before attacking your side with tickles. Your burst out laughing, desperately kicking at him to get him to stop and trying to roll into a ball to avoid his teasing. Dean laughed heartily, taking advantage of the space you had freed to climb into bed with you.

“Dean, stop, stop,” you said in between peals.

“Fine, fine,” he raised his arms in surrender. “Truce.”

“What truce? You’re already in the damn bed,” you snorted, punching his side playfully.

“This is a very comfortable bed, Y/N,” Dean shot you a cheeky grin.

“Get out of the bed,” you whined, trying to push him off. Dean shook his head, stiffening his body and making it impossible for you to move him more than a few millimeters. You huffed and continued attempting to kick him out, but to no avail. Finally, he decided to wrap his arms around you and pull you close.

“Let’s just sleep, I’m sleepy after eating all of that food,” he chuckled.

“Dean,” you pouted, your nose pressed against his chest as he squeezed you, mumbling incoherently as he nuzzled your hair. You gave up, let him stay in bed and win this round, promising yourself that the next time he wouldn’t be so lucky. About to state this to him, there was an exclamation right outside the door before someone fell.

“What’s going on?” Dean got on his feet, slamming the door opened to reveal Jess crouching on the floor while Sam looked like he was going to puke his guts out from worry.

* * *

“I’m just,” Jess groaned. “I think the food may have done me some damage.”

“You ate mashed potatoes,” Sam gasped. “Jess, why didn’t you tell my mom you were lactose intolerant?”

“Sam,” she glared at him. “I just met your mom.”

“Oh, child, but it would do no good for you to keep your mouth shut,” Mary emerged from her bedroom, clicking her tongue. She helped Sam hoist Jess up and into his room. Dean and you followed suit. “Okay, now lie down,” she tittered, placing her hand on Jess’ forehead. “You’re going to have to stay resting for a few hours, go to the bathroom and such. Let the indigestion pass.”

“Thanks, mom,” Sam smiled gratefully.

“Dean,” John’s voice traveled through the hallway until he stepped into Sam’s bedroom. “Oh, what’s wrong?”

“Jess ate something that caused her indigestion,” Dean answered. “What’s up, dad?”

“I need you to help me prepare for the BBQ tonight,” he inquired. “Think you could?”

“Yeah, dad, sure,” Dean nodded, walking out of the room with his dad.

“Sammy, you’re going to have to go to the mall with Y/N,” your eyes widened at Mary’s order.

“Mom, I think I should stay with Jess,” the youngest Winchester gestured at his girlfriend.

“Nonsense,” Mary scoffed, waving her son’s suggestion away. “I want to spend some time with my son’s new girlfriend, get to know her,” she winked. “I’ll spend time with Y/N tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, ma’am,” you complied, not really knowing how to argue with someone you barely knew.

“Alright,” Sam sighed, leaning down to kiss Jess’ forehead.

“You kids have fun!” Mary grinned, waving the both of you away.

“Sorry,” you looked at the ground as you walked with Sam to the staircase.

“Don’t sweat it, Y/N,” Sam nudged your arm, smiling widely. “My mom is just being a mom. Let’s go look for your dress.”

Sam held the front door opened for you and did the same for when you both got to the car. Thanking him quietly, you climbed into the passenger seat and prayed that you wouldn’t give your feelings away while spending these few hours with your crush.

He took you to the closest mall to the house, fifteen minutes away. Parking fairly close to the main entrance, Sam and you kept the same step as you walked. You smiled to yourself, enjoying these moments with him. It had been months since you had last hanged out with Sam. It was always Dean that was around.

“So, what store do you want to go to first?” Sam shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, glancing around the shopping center.

“Over there,” scanning the place, your eyes landed on a tiny boutique, almost hidden by the fact that it was next to Macy’s.

The store’s only employee smiled politely in greeting as you stepped in, your eyes landing on a rack of evening gowns in the back. Making a beeline towards them, you quickly shuffled through them until you had found three that you wanted to try out and were your size. Sam stood quiet, looking on as you picked out your favorite gowns.

“Okay,” you held out the clothes. “I’m trying these on. If I like one of them, I’ll buy it and that’s the end of it,” you declared.

“You’re right to the point,” the tall man chuckled.

“I hate shopping,” you wrinkled your nose. “I hate trying on things. I can spend hours doing it online but not in person. Time drags for me.”

“Never pegged you for someone who hated shopping,” Sam followed you to the fitting room, where the employee held the door opened for you.

“Stay right there, don’t wander around,” you pointed a finger at him. “I need your opinion on them.”

“Alright,” he promised, thanking the girl who worked there after she brought a chair for him.

The first two dresses fit your figure quite nicely, accentuating your strong points and helping you hide the parts of your body that you didn’t want to show as much. You were leaning towards the second one though, but decided to try on your third option. Putting it on proved to be a challenge as the zipper got stuck on its way up. It had turned out to be your favorite amongst the three of them, so you were determined to zip it up to the top.

“Hey, Sam?” you grumbled, your head poking out from behind the fitting room’s door.

“Yeah?” he looked up from his phone, pausing his typing.

“Sorry, but can you help me zip up this dress,” you pouted, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Okay,” he burst out laughing at your face, to which you grinned and stood still as his hands landed on the dress. The zipper was on your left side and you helped Sam pull it down as he held the two fabrics together to pull it up. His eyes landed on stark black and he raised a curious brow. “You have a tattoo?”

“Oh, that?” you smiled tenderly at the Celtic hawk perched right above your hip bone. “Dean was with me when I got that tattoo,” you smiled as you remembered that night.

“What happened? What does it mean?” Sam finished zipping up the dress after admiring the intricacy of the tattoo’s design.

“Freedom,” you responded, focusing your eyes on the mirror in front of you. This dress was definitely it and Sam seemed to agree with you as he nodded his head when you asked him if you should buy this one.

“Freedom?” he continued the conversation once you had put your regular clothes back on and handed the gown to the cashier.

“Yeah, I had just broken up with a longtime boyfriend,” you began. “This was like four years ago. I was a complete mess and Dean made sure that I wouldn’t sink into an abyss, so he took me drinking,” you scoffed, shaking your head.

“Typical Dean,” Sam scoffed.

“Yeah, he wanted me to have fun, let loose and forget about the hurt,” you grinned fondly as you reminisced on that night. “We got smashed and so he suggested I should tattoo myself as a symbol for such a significant day of my life. ‘Getting rid of trash’ was what he said,” you thanked the cashier as you handed her your credit card, grabbing the shopping bag from the counter.

“My brother is nuts,” the younger Winchester muttered.

“He actually succeeded in helping me forget about my ex,” you revealed. “I had a lot of fun that night and so I went with him to the tattoo shop. Once we were there, he suggested I get a hawk, symbolizing freedom and so on. So, I went along with his antics. And I have never regretted the tattoo.”

“Did he get something, too?” Sam questioned, he walked forward and opened the glass door for you.

“Yeah,” you blinked against the sun’s rays as you both emerged from the building. “I don’t remember much except him pointing at the wall all drunk and saying that a certain picture looked nice. Next thing we knew, Dean had woken up to a Dara Celtic knot etched on his right shoulder blade.”

“Wow,” Sam enunciated the word exaggeratedly.

“He panicked but after I googled it and found out it meant power and all of that good stuff, he seemed to not mind it so much,” you laughed.

“He’s really something,” Sam smiled, getting into the car with you and driving out of the mall’s driveway.

“Whoa, you guys are back already?” Dean appeared from the house’s garage as Sam parked the car on the front yard.

“Yeah, you know I hate shopping, I hurried up,” you shrugged.

“That’s right, you do hate that,” he looked at Sam. “How’d he behave?”

“Splendidly, sweetie,” you leaned over and kissed Dean’s cheek, not noticing the black mark across his cheek. You spat at the taste, cleaning your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Sorry, got a little too personal with the coal,” he shot you a cheeky grin as you glared.

“Alright, now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go check up on Jess,” Sam bowed his head before walking into the house.

“What color’s the dress you picked out?” Dean furrowed his brow under the sun.

“Aqua,” you responded. “Why? Do you want to have a matching tie, boyfriend?”

“You bet your sweet ass I do, baby,” he winked.

“You’re insufferable, Dean Winchester,” you shook your head as he walked alongside you into the house.

“Oh, you two should start getting ready,” John Winchester stepped out of the kitchen. “Family will start getting here in about half an hour.”

“Whoa, family?” you grasped Dean’s elbow and squeezed.

“Yeah, extended family,” he nodded, pulling you with him to the stairs. “It’s kinda like the bride’s introduction to everyone else. And also yours and Jess’,” he smirked.

“We’re going to get discovered,” you sighed.

“We will be fine,” he rolled his eyes and snorted. “All we have to do is spend time sitting next to each other and just put on an act.”

“Like I said, we are going to get discovered,” you reiterated, walking over to your suitcase to pick out a casual outfit for the BBQ.

“Relax and don’t make it obvious that we’re lying,” Dean placated, reaching to grab his shirt from behind himself and pulling at it.

“Hey, whoa, whoa, let’s not get naked around each other,” you threw a pillow at him.

“Since when are you so uptight about shit like that?” he cackled as he tossed it back at you, along with his sweat soaked shirt. “You’ve seen me shirtless more times than you could count.”

“Whatever, Dean,” you saw it useless to argue with him, maintaining your eyes focused on your clothes as you picked them out. After a few minutes of ignoring Dean shuffling about in his room, you had finally found what you wanted to wear. Much to your surprise, he was already done dressing up.

“What do you think?” he grinned, holding out his arms in question. Your eyes widened at the black button down shirt he had chosen. The long sleeves were folded up to his elbows, showcasing the tattoos he had gotten over the years. He had also left the top two buttons undone. He smirked at your obvious ogling, smacking his lips cockily.

“Wow, Dean, you certainly pull of the arrogant look,” you scoffed.

“Shut up, you know I look good,” he winked. “Now, I’m going to step out and let you get dressed.”

“Thank you,” you grinned, trying not to notice how long his bowlegs looked in those jeans.

“Anything for my beautiful girlfriend,” he clicked his tongue, laughing loudly when you rolled your eyes. You sighed and shook your head when he closed the door behind himself, quickly getting into the clothes you had picked out.

Ten minutes later, you smacked your lips together and wiped at the corners, finally satisfied with how your lipstick looked. Just as promised, Dean was waiting for you right outside the room and smiled when you walked out, whistling his approval at your outfit.

“You always knew how to pull off plaid shirts and jeans quite adorably,” he complimented.

“Thanks, Dean,” you took his offered arm and fell into step with him. There were already people chatting quite animatedly when you got downstairs, Mary’s exclamations announcing Dean’s and your presence.

“Oh, come on, I want you to meet Nana and Dean’s aunts and uncles,” she took your hand and you looked back at Dean with wide eyes as you were pulled away.

“Have fun,” he waved before being distracted by a blond man tapping his shoulder.

There were too many names exchanged, you could only manage to laugh when it was your cue and nod your head enough times to make you dizzy. Dean’s aunts fluttered around you, excited to know their nephew had finally settled down. At one point, one of his aunts began to tell you how Dean had always been mischievous from the get-go.

“He peed on my rose bushes,” she tittered. “Ran around the house butt naked with only a table cloth wrapped around his neck like a cape. Four years old and already giving me headaches whenever I babysat him.”

“Hey there, Aunt Ellen,” Dean was suddenly next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Enough with the kiddy stories,” he chuckled nervously.

“No, no, they’re quite entertaining!” you exclaimed.

“Absolutely not, you are now meeting my cousins!” he declared. “Come on,” he dragged you with him to the back of the house, where all the younger family members were hanging out.

“Jo, this is Y/N, my girlfriend,” he nudged a blonde, petite girl who sat on the kitchen counter sipping on a beer bottle. “Y/N, this is my favorite cousin, Jo.”

“Hey, nice to meet the girl who got this one to settle down,” she grinned widely.

“Nice to meet you,” you chuckled as Dean rolled his eyes.

“What’s this I hear about favorite cousins?” a lanky man with a tacky mullet stood up, arms out held.

“You know you’re my favorite cousin, Ash,” Sam grinned at said man and everyone laughed at Ash’s proud smile.

You were introduced to the rest of the cousins, laughing when they all congratulated you for finally being able to tie Dean down.

“I say we start these drinking games!” Ash raised the vodka bottle he had in hand and everyone whooped and hollered their approvals. Shots were poured out and the games began.

At one point, a game of truth or dare was begun and it was mostly drinking dares, weird concoctions that Ash put together and basically burned the trachea on their way down. You winced as Dean’s cousins bravely stepped up to the plate, only to wince and punch the table in pain at the fire in their throats.

Your turn came around and thinking yourself brave enough to take the alcohol being handed out, you chose dare. As expected, Ash smirked as he slid the red cup your way. You swallowed thickly before pinching your nose closed and downing the drink in one go. Everyone cheered as you slammed the cup down and Dean applauded you proudly.

“That’s my girl,” he laughed.

“Come on, Dean!” Jo shouted. “Give her a congratulatory kiss!”

“Yeah!” everyone seemed to like the idea and Dean smiled nervously as his cousins began to chant ‘kiss, kiss.’ You looked at him with wide eyes and gulped thickly as he seemed to be leaning closer.

* * *

Everything around you came to a screeching halt, blood pounding in your ears. Dean’s eyes were incredibly green, how come you had never noticed just how much they resembled emeralds? You could feel his breath on your lips, smell the beer he had been drinking. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you realized that his nose could probably pick up on the horrid whiff of alcohol coming from your mouth. Embarrassment made you wring your hands and multiplied the speed of your heart beat tenfold. You were pretty sure it was going to burst out of your chest any second now.

“Bride and groom are here!” a voice announced. Before you could process anything, the moment was gone. Dean was pulling away and getting on his feet, clapping his hands with the rest of his family. You cleared your throat, ignoring the disappointment and following everyone’s lead in celebrating the arrival of the future bride and groom. The girl you assumed to be the bride walked into the kitchen, Mary and Ellen flanking her sides as they introduced her to everyone.

“Here are Mark’s cousins,” Mary gestured towards everyone in the kitchen. There were smiles and congratulatory words given to her as she shook hands with family members. Her eyes suddenly widened as she recognized Dean, who offered her a tiny smile. She gasped and extended her arms, embracing him. Although Dean reciprocated the gesture, he was quick to pull away from her and turn to you.

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N,” he snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you forward to meet her.

“Hi, pleasure to meet you,” she shook your hand and you were quite taken aback by how pretty she was.

“Likewise,” you returned her gesture before taking a seat once again. Everyone seemed curious to find out how Dean and Lisa knew each other, but your pretend-boyfriend remained quiet. Despite this, Lisa was quick to answer by explaining that they had been high school classmates.

“Hey, y’all,” a light blond man waved his hand, greeting cousins with tight hugs and wide grins as he stepped into the room.

“That’s Mark,” Dean sat back down next to you and whispered into your ear. You jumped back at the close proximity. “What’s wrong?” he chuckled.

“Nothing,” you quickly dismissed his inquiry and smiled in greeting at Mark as he stood by Dean and amicably rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Long time no see, Dean,” he offered as a greeting.

“Congratulations on the wedding, Mark,” Dean shot him a smile.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Dean’s girlfriend,” you held out your hand.

“Dean always got himself the prettiest ladies,” Mark laughed as the older Winchester rolled his eyes. “Did he tell ya he dated Lisa here back in high school?” he whispered.

“Yeah, but he’s mine now,” you winked, leaning your head on Dean’s shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you and laughed softly. “And I have no intentions of letting go.”

“Feeling’s mutual, sweetheart,” he kissed your forehead and you tried not to let your face reveal how awkward you suddenly felt, attempting to look love-stricken instead.

“Honey, your mom is inviting us to the backyard,” Lisa laid a hand on her fiancée’s forearm, smiling politely at you and Dean. “We have yet to meet the rest of the family.”

“Excuse us,” Mark winked at his cousin before following Lisa’s lead out through the back door.

“So she’s why I’m here, huh?” you nudged your chin towards Lisa.

“Yeah, her and I, we had a long run, but I preferred moving to the city than staying here with her,” Dean sighed.

“You really liked her, huh?” you shot him a sympathetic look.

“I did, not anymore,” he smirked at you, poking your nose with his index finger. “Now I just can’t get over you.”

“Shut up,” you pushed him away as he laughed heartily.

“Wanna get out of here?” he suddenly asked. “This is basically a party for Lisa and Mark. I could show you around where I grew up? There’s a lake nearby and—”

“Let’s just go,” you got on your feet, grabbing Dean’s elbow and hauling him with you. He grabbed the keys on his way out and raced you to the car, the doors slamming as you both declared victory.

“I win, Dean, don’t be such a sore loser,” you pinched his arm.

“Fine, fine, I will be the bigger person here and let you win,” he conceded, revving the engine before maneuvering out of the driveway.

“Stop it with the bigger person crap and realize that you’re slow,” you huffed out.

“Whatever makes you sleep at night, Y/N,” he shot you a cheeky grin.

“Shut up and drive me to the lake,” you pointed to the road before you.

“Yes, miss,” he saluted you and you ignored his laughter, shaking your head.

Surrounded by willow trees, you gasped as you laid eyes on the lake that Dean claimed to have spent most of his childhood in. The sun was setting and it painted the surface of the water in purple and pink hues, the clouds giving way to the last rays before the moon took their place. The blond man shot a soft smile as you took in the beautiful scenery, opening his mouth to tease you about picking up your jaw from the floor when he felt a sharp jab on his calf.

“What the—” he exclaimed, his head turning to meet eyes with a territorial goose. The animal screeched before its wings spread and it lunged at Dean. You screamed in panic as he began to run, the creature hot on his heels, its beak pecking Dean’s legs.

“Oh, my God,” your hands flew to your mouth as he tripped on a protruding tree root and the goose took advantage of this by savagely biting at Dean’s thighs.

“To the car, to the car,” he motioned wildly and you quickly complied, dashing to the passenger’s side and climbing in. Dean was slower as he tried to get the bird off him and you leaned to the driver’s side, kicking it open. He desperately clambered in, slamming the door closed and laughing hysterically as the goose glared at him and pecked at the glass. “Bitch,” Dean muttered.

“Are you alright?” you assessed that he had not been injured, sighing in relief when he nodded and turned on the car, pulling out of the lakeside. Once he was calmer, you let the laughter burst from your lips, clapping uproariously as you described in great detail just how scared Dean had looked.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, veering the car right and stopping in front of a bar. “Let’s get some drinks. It’s barely 8 and I bet everyone is still at the house.”

“Whatever you want,” you patted his shoulder comfortingly. “After such a traumatic event—”

“Come here,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close to fall into step with him, laughing loudly as you complained about almost tripping. “First round is on me,” he offered as he opened the door for you to step in.

“All rounds are on you,” you scoffed.

“Whatever my girl wants, my girl gets,” he clicked his tongue before approaching the bar to order your drinks.

Meanwhile he did that, you found a secluded table and sat on one of the chairs, your fingers tapping on the wood. Glancing over at Dean, you realized that he was sporting a flirtatious smirk before your eyes landed on the gorgeous bartender who was now a giggling mess. You rolled your eyes and decided to check your phone, hoping it’d make you look too busy to care whether Dean was shamelessly hitting on a girl or not.

The light flashed on your cell and you were surprised to see Sam’s number signaling that you had received a text from him. He was asking where you were and you replied, letting him know that you were in a bar with Dean. His only response was to say okay.

“Hi,” a deep voice made you glance up from the screen. Your eyes widened at the sweet smile being directed your way. “I’m Steve,” he held out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you found yourself mesmerized by his blue eyes, clumsily shaking hands with him. He laughed and went on to make small talk with you, making it quite obvious that he was interested in you. After a few minutes, he was about to offer to buy you a drink when you felt someone sitting next to you.

“Hey, man, enjoying my girl’s company?” Dean cleared his throat, shooting Steve a loaded glare.

“Excuse me, but she didn’t mention anything about having a boyfriend,” the blue-eyed man shot back.

“Well, she does, so I advise you to walk away, buddy,” the Winchester motioned towards the bar’s exit.

“Dean,” you nudged his side, your lips parting to explain to Steve that you were single and that Dean was just your best friend.

“See ya around, Y/N,” Steve winked before getting on his feet and walking out of the vicinity.

“Are you serious?” you held out your arms in protest. “Dean, what the hell?”

“Do you want people finding out that we’re lying?” he snorted. “I don’t think so,” he slid a bottle of beer towards you.

“Excuse you? You’re the one shamelessly flirting with the bartender,” you motioned towards the girl, who kept darting glances to your table.

“I was just trying to get free drinks,” Dean shrugged.

“Oh, and did you get them?” you crossed your arms and cocked a brow. “Or did you just get her number?”

“That’s not important,” he waved you away.

“Whatever, Dean,” you dismissed him with a flick of your wrist and chugged down a significant amount of beer.

Soon, he was challenging you in various games and before you knew it, you couldn’t tell whether Dean had another head sticking out of his shoulder or if that was just your imagination. The blond man seemed to be in the same situation as you as he struggled to get up, groaning when his vision reeled and he had to sit back down.

“We need to call—” he burped, to which you wrinkled your nose in disgust before bursting out in laughter with him.

Somehow, you managed to dial Sam’s number, screaming at him to pick you both up since Dean couldn’t find the keys to his car. The younger Winchester sounded exasperated as he hanged up, but you were too busy trying to keep from throwing up to care.

Everything was a blur. The events of the night completely erased from your mind. You couldn’t even remember how you had gotten into the car or who had helped you up the stairs of the Winchesters’ home. All you knew was that your pillow was superbly warm and comfortable. You nuzzled it, squeezing it closer to you. It all seemed fine until you realized that it seemed to be breathing.

Your eyes widened and you lurched back, recognizing Dean’s broad shoulders. He was shirtless and you panicked, your mind trying to remember whether or not something had happened last night. To your relief, your clothes were still on you and Dean’s jeans were still being worn by him. So far, everything seemed to be fine. You laid back, staring at the ceiling and groaning at letting yourself go. You turned your head to make sure Dean was still asleep as you began to try to inch out of bed, only for your eyes to land on a flower etched on his shoulder.

You immediately recognized it. After all, it was your favorite and you were pretty sure that Dean knew it. Your fingers had a mind of their own as they reached to trace his skin, outline the petals and marvel at the lively colors the artist had used. It was a beautiful tattoo and you were surprised Dean had never shown it to you. After all, he was also well aware that you loved realistic tattoos and this was as real as an artist could get. The flower seemed to be jumping out of his skin, ready to be picked and sniffed at.

Your hand pulled back as he took a deep breath, groaning out his discontent in being awake. Your heart lurched at the thought of having him felt your touch and you quickly turned to your side, back facing him and pretended to be asleep. He didn’t seem to notice as he climbed out of bed and padded to the bathroom.

Dean softly closed the door behind him, trying to ignore how hot his skin felt where you had traced it. He knew what you had seen and he couldn’t help but to smile at the thought that you had recognized it. Going about his business, Dean almost dropped his toothbrush as he grinned at himself on the mirror, turning to glance at the tattoo. It was the only one that was colored in. He always preferred black design, but this particular one had been the exception. It held a significant meaning for him.

You sat up on the bed when you heard the door being opened. Dean grinned at you as he met your eyes. Making to ask about his tattoo, your question was stopped short when yelling and loud voices traveled to your ears.

“What the hell is going on?” you tilted your head before climbing out of bed and following Dean to the adjacent room.

The older Winchester was making to knock on Sam’s bedroom door when it flew open. Sam stood at the end of the room, mouth twisted in an angry scowl and hands fisted on his sides. You were about to ask what was wrong when Jess pushed between you and Dean, her suitcase rolling behind her. She was crying and it was quite obvious that she didn’t want to spend another minute in the house.

* * *

_“Sam, is everything okay?” Jess placed her hand on her boyfriend’s forearm, fingers squeezing and brow furrowing with worry._

_“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine, baby,” he blinked as if waking up from a trance and kissed her cheek._

_“You’ve been awfully quiet since you got back from the mall,” she muttered. “Are you sure you’re okay?”_

_“Yeah, Jess, I’m okay,” Sam reiterated, laughing softly. “I’m just a little woozy from the alcohol Ash made me drink.”_

_“That was pretty strong,” she wrinkled her nose and they shared a smile. Satisfied with Sam’s response, Jess turned her head and resumed her conversation with Jo while the younger Winchester sighed, biting the inside of his cheek._

_He didn’t know what was going on, he refused to believe the daunting realization that was creeping up on him. Suddenly, you and Dean stood up and Sam’s heart lurched. You were dragging his brother by the elbow and without uttering a word to anyone, the two of you were out the door._

_He shook his head, pretending as if that single action would chase you out of his thoughts. Spending those few hours with you had awakened something in Sam that he was not in the position to feel. He had Jess, he had no business thinking you incredibly gorgeous and charming. He had always seen you as his big brother’s best friend, nothing else. Occasionally, he’d bump into you when passing through the hallway in the building you both lived in, but that was it. Dean was the one who spent time with you. He should have seen it coming, you and Dean eventually dating._

_The hours passed without you returning and Sam grew worried. At first, he scoffed at this. You were with Dean, your boyfriend. There was nothing to be worrying about. Yet Sam couldn’t stop thinking about you and decided to text you, asking where you were. His mouth went dry when he read the response. You were at a bar with Dean, of course. Sending you a short response, he shoved his phone into his pocket and focused his attention on Jess, deciding to wander through the house talking to other family members._

_It was close to midnight when he got your phone call. Surrounding Jess with his arms, Sam had drowned himself in her kisses when his ringtone went off. He lurched off the bed, ignoring Jess’ exclamation and answered._

_“Y/N, are you okay?” he stammered out._

_“Sammy, I am with—” you hiccupped before bursting out in peals of obnoxious laughter, Dean’s deep chuckle resounding in the background._

_“Where are you?” he slid the jeans up his legs and buttoned them, making Jess reach for his t-shirt after he had left it on the floor by her side of the bed._

_“The bar right by 2 nd street,” you mumbled out. “Dean can’t find the keys to his car and I really want to go home,” you whined. “Can you pick me up, Sam, please?”_

_“I’ll be right there,” he hung up._

_“What’s going on?” Jess began to climb out of bed._

_“Dean and Y/N are at a bar, pissed drunk,” he answered. “I’m going to go get them.”_

_“Oh, okay, I’ll come with you and help out,” she was reaching for her clothes when Sam stopped her short._

_“No, it’s okay, I got this,” he winked, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. “Don’t wait up for me, Jess.”_

_“Okay, um, bye,” she waved at him, but he had already closed the bedroom door behind him._

_The drive to the bar only took a few minutes and the tires screeched as he pulled up in front of the building. Dean was leaning on the driver’s side with you sitting on the hood and for a moment, Sam thought that you had both sobered up._

_“Hey, little bro, what’s up?” Dean grinned, embracing Sam tightly. “I love you.”_

_“Sammy,” your arms widened and you joined the brother’s hug, mumbling incoherencies into Sam’s arm._

_“Okay, let’s get you two home,” he laughed softly. “Alright, you stay here, Y/N. I’m going to get Dean in the car,” he sat you back down on the hood and wrapped Dean’s arm around his neck._

_“Gotcha,” you gave him a thumbs up. Satisfied that you’d be alright, the younger Winchester shoved his brother into the backseat of the vehicle before returning to fetch you._

_“Come on, now,” he shot you a smile before snaking arms around your waist._

_“Sammy, oh t-that tickles,” you chuckled, leaning your head on his shoulder._

_“Y/N, you’re with my brother, he’s right over there,” he motioned towards where Dean was passed out._

_“Actually, w-we are not l-like going out,” you slurred out._

_“Wait, what?” he pulled away from you._

_“Dean and I,” you held back a burp. “Dean and I not d-dating. This is all pretend for Lily!”_

_“Lisa,” Sam uttered softly._

_“Yeah, her!” you grinned, clapping excitedly. “That’s her name! I forgotten it.”_

_“B-but, you’re drunk, you don’t mean that,” he opened the car door for you and began to usher you inside._

_“Dean w-wants to impress Lila,” you groaned as you hit your head on the roof of the car, Sam wincing and making sure you were okay after you collapsed on the passenger seat._

_“So, you and Dean are just—”_

_“We’re not together, Sammy,” you pouted, cupping Sam’s jaw. “I like you, not Dean.”_

_“Clearly, getting drunk is not a good idea for you,” he smiled, putting the seatbelt on you._

_“You think I am lying,” you whimpered, laying back on the seat and ignoring as Sam closed the door and walked to the driver’s side._

_“Wait,” you squeezed his arm as he made to turn on the engine._

_“What?” he snapped._

_“The car,” you pressed your nose to the window, finger poking the glass towards Dean’s vehicle._

_“I’ll come back tomorrow for it, Y/N, don’t worry,” he smiled._

_“O-okay, I trust you,” you nodded, leaning your head back on the headrest. Sam pulled out of the driveway and tried to ignore as you kept uttering nicknames you made up for him, chuckling whenever you came up with a new one._

_Once arriving to the house, he left you locked in the car for a bit as he got Dean up the stairs and into his bedroom, groaning as his brother undressed before collapsing on the mattress. Making sure that he’d be alright, Sam dashed down the stairs and out the house, unaware that his steps had stirred Jess awake._

_He made his way back to the car and unlocked it, smiling softly as you shot him a wide grin when you recognized him. Slowly untying your seatbelt, he slid one arm under your legs and the other one under your back, cradling you and kicking the door closed._

_“S-Sam,” you slurred as he stepped inside._

_“Yeah, Y/N?” he looked down at you, his face incredibly close to yours._

_“Y-you are so good,” you poked his nose. “Over—” a hiccupped interrupted you. “Sorry. I mean to say that I l-like you, this much,” you widened your arms, Sam avoiding to be hit by your hand by a close inch._

_“Y/N, you don’t really mean that, you’re drunk,” he smiled. “You probably won’t remember this tomorrow morning.”_

_“I mean it a lot!” you groaned. “D-do I prove it?”_

_“What?” Sam scoffed. Before he could react, your hand flew to the nape of his neck and pulled him down, pressing your lips against his. Sam didn’t pull away, he kissed you back, just to be able to feel your soft mouth moving in tandem to his._

_“Sam?” Jess scoffed. She was standing on top of the stairs, looking down at the house’s main entrance, worried that something had happened to Sam while he was bringing you in there. The tall man pulled away from the kiss and his eyes widened as he laid eyes on his girlfriend._

_“Jess,” he climbed up the stairs, for a moment forgetting he had you in his arms. He winced when his girlfriend slammed the door closed in his face. You knocked him out of his daze by throwing your hands up and squealing your delight at Sam ascending the stairs so fast._

_“Do that again,” you exclaimed._

_“Y/N,” he shushed you. “Everyone in the house is sleeping,” he walked into Dean’s room, laying you down next to his brother._

_“I-I’m sorry,” you pulled his wrist as he stood up to walk away._

_“Y/N,” he pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand._

_“Think I did so-something wrong,” you squeezed your fingers around his hand. “I-I’m sorry.”_

_“It’s okay, Y/N, you won’t remember this come morning,” he comforted, stepping out of the room._

_Making sure to be extra quiet, Sam found the key to his bedroom, jumping in glee at being able to remember where he had hidden it. To Jess’ dismay, he managed to get inside and close the door behind himself before she could make to kick him out._

_“Don’t say a word,” she gritted her teeth at him. “We’ll talk in the morning.” Sam could only nod and try to sleep as far as possible as he could from Jess in the full-size bed._

_Sam’s eyes fluttered opened and he quickly focused on the alarm clock on his night table. It was only 6 a.m. He heard shuffling behind him and snapped his head to look at Jess shuffling about the room, nose red and eyes bloodshot._

_“Jess,” he sat up._

_“Was she drunk?” she questioned, grabbing a few shirts from the drawer and folding them as she patiently waited for an answer._

_“Yeah, she was ready to pass out, I was just carrying her inside.” Sam wrung his hands nervously._

_“I think we did this whole thing so fast,” Jess sighed, avoiding to look into his eyes._

_“What are you trying to say?” the scoff escaped his lips, Sam couldn’t believe what he was hearing._

_“This entire relationship, it has been so fast, Sam,” Jess raised her arms. “We’ve only been dating two weeks and I’m already meeting your parents. And obviously there’s something going on between you and Y/N.”_

_“Jess, I thought this was what you wanted,” his voice increased in volume as he climbed out of bed and stalked over to where she was packing her things._

_“I wanted to get to know you, and then I was just thrust into meeting your family,” she choked out, tears burning in the back of her eyes. “And last night, seeing her kiss you…”_

_“Jess,” Sam clenched his jaw. “That didn’t mean anything.”_

_“You didn’t pull away, Sam,” she shut her eyes, trying to erase the image from her mind._

_“It didn’t mean anything,” he restated, frustration coursing through him._

_“I’m gonna go back to the city,” Jess zipped up her suitcase and set it upright. “We can talk after you come back or just wait until I’m ready to call you, okay?”_

_“Jess, please don’t leave,” Sam made to grab her hand._

_“Rethink your feelings, rethink what you want from all of this,” she pulled away from his touch, the tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. “I’m going home.”_

_Without a further word, Jess gave Sam her back and walked to the bedroom’s door. She pulled it opened, revealing two sets of wide, curious eyes as you and Dean looked inside. Pushing between you both, Jess ignored everything and ran downstairs, having already called a taxicab to pick her up._

“What happened?” Dean stepped into Sam’s room, cautious in approaching him.

“Jess is leaving, she—” the younger Winchester cleared his throat. “She’s, I guess she broke up with me. Said she’ll call me when she’s ready.”

“Why? W-why would she break up with you?” you inquired.

“You don’t remember last night, do you?” Sam scoffed.

“No, all I remember is you picked us up from the bar and then I woke up next to Dean,” you glanced at the shorter man, fingers furling into a fist as you remembered tracing his tattooed skin.

“That’s just great,” he mumbled, before stomping out of the room, brushing past you.

“Let’s leave him alone for a while,” Dean waved his brother away. “Let him brood. I’m starving.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t be checking if he’s okay?” you kept your eyes on Sam’s retreating form as he descended the stairs.

“He’ll be fine, Y/N,” Dean shrugged an arm on your shoulder and pulled you with him to his room. “Now, let’s get dressed and we can go to the best diner in the country, huh?”

“Fine, but we’ll check up on him, soon, okay?” you demanded.

“We will, we will,” he assured, grabbing a shirt from the closet and putting it on.

After getting into comfortable clothes, Dean and you asked his parents if they wanted to accompany the both of you to breakfast, only for them to turn the invitation down. John had things to do and Mary had to help Aunt Ellen with some preparations for the wedding.

“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do,” John winked at his eldest son.

“Ew, no, dad, come on!” Dean shook his head, cringing at his father’s remark. You laughed and hugged Mary before following Dean’s lead out of the house.

The hostess led you to the farthest booth from the diner’s front door before handing you the menus and wishing you a nice meal. Dean smiled at her politely and you began to search through it, not knowing what to choose. Everything seemed so delicious.

“Told you this place was great,” he chuckled smugly.

“I haven’t even tasted the water, so shut up,” you scoffed.

“The water is exceptional!” he exclaimed, kissing his fingers and raising them.

“Hello, what can I get started for you?” the waitress walked up to the table, smiling sweetly at the both of you.

“Black coffee for me,” Dean responded. “And combo number ten.”

“I’ll have what he’s having,” you handed the waitress the menus back as she ensured that the food would be out soon. As soon as she was out of hearing range, you turned to Dean. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” you stuttered out.

“Shoot,” he folded his hands on the tabletop.

“The flower tattoo, on your shoulder,” you swallowed thickly at the thought that Dean could have gotten something so starkly different from his preferred style just for you.

“Oh, that’s your favorite flower, too, right?” he chuckled.

“Too?” you tilted your head.

“It’s my mom’s favorite flower,” he smiled. “It was my first tattoo. Colors aren’t exactly my preference but I wanted to have something to remember her by when I’m so far away from home.”

“T-that’s really sweet, Dean,” you couldn’t help but to smile at him.

“Wait, did you think—” he narrowed his eyes as you widened yours. “Did you think I got this tattoo because of you?”

“N-no, I was just curious,” you snorted, waving his assumption away.

“Sure, sure,” he laughed. The conversation was cut short when the coffee was brought to the table and you marveled at how delicious it was. The rest of breakfast went by silently and despite your protests, Dean paid for the check.

“Want to walk around town for a bit?” he suggested as you made your way out of the diner and towards the car. “There’s a bookstore that I bet you’ll love and I also want to check out the car dealership.”

“Fine by me,” you fell into step with him as he turned to his left and began to walk to the main street.

“I’ll drop you off at the bookstore, go to the car shop,” he pointed further down the street. “And we can meet over there where it says _Artie’s_.”

“Awesome, okay,” you agreed. Dean shoved his hands into his front pockets and guided you to the town’s only bookstore, chuckling to himself when you gasped as soon as you stepped in. “Oh, my God, they have vintage editions,” you squealed, smacking his shoulder excitedly.

“Okay, and that’s my cue,” he laughed. “I’ll text you later, Y/N.”

“Okay, bye,” you waved him away, smiling widely at the bookstore’s owner who seemed to be equally elated at seeing you so happy about discovering the place.

Meanwhile, Dean looked around the antique car shop, his eyes never peeling away from a sleek, black ’67 Chevy Impala. It had been patiently standing there since he had been a kid and he had made a promise to one day purchase it. He smiled, promising the car that soon he’d be able to buy it from the dealership.

“You’re still hung up on that car, huh?” a soft voice interrupted Dean’s thoughts and he snapped his head towards its direction. Lisa’s smile met his eyes.

You were talking animatedly with bookstore’s employee when your phone began to ring. Excusing yourself, you immediately answered it when you saw Sam’s number splayed out across the screen.

“Hey, where are you?” he asked urgently.

“I’m at the bookstore. Is everything okay, Sam?” you brought a strand of hair behind your ear, biting your lip.

“I’m on my way, okay? We need to talk,” he hung up and you gulped thickly.

* * *

“Lisa? Hey,” Dean couldn’t contain his surprise at seeing his former girlfriend standing before him. She leaned forward and they shared a hug before Dean was pulling away.

“You’re not with Y/N?” she glanced around, her brow raised.

“She’s at the bookstore, right now,” he answered. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m here to pick up something for Mark’s car,” she smiled politely at the salesman that had approached them, giving him her name. He smiled and excused himself to fetch what Mark had purchased.

“Awesome,” Dean nodded his head, eyes focused on the ground. He found himself at a loss for words. Lisa always did that to him. In that moment, Dean wished you could have been next to him.

“Um, you want to grab some lunch?” Lisa shot him a sheepish smile. “It’s been a while and just—”

“Sure, sure,” he agreed. “Just let me call,” he cleared his throat.

“Got it, I’ll be outside,” she winked at him as he fidgeted on his feet, reaching for his phone and finding you in his contact list. It rang twice before you answered.

“I’m going to be a while, maybe you can get Sam to pick you up from the bookstore,” he informed.

“Oh, okay,” you agreed, smiling as the younger Winchester walked into the place. “I’m going to have lunch with Sam.”

“Alright, see you later,” Dean hung up and shoved his hands into his pockets, heaving a big sigh before he made his way outside. Lisa was waiting for him with a sweet grin.

“Was that Dean?” Sam’s jaw locked as his shoulders tensed.

“Yeah, he’s gonna be a while, told him I’m hanging out with you,” you waved goodbye at the place’s owner before walking out alongside Sam.

“Okay,” he cleared his throat, remaining quiet.

“How are you? Are you doing okay?” you placed a hand on his elbow, squeezing it to stop him from walking forward. He turned his body to face you, the both of you remaining in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Don’t you remember anything from last night?” his eyes narrowed, searching your face.

“Just what I told you before,” your head tilted curiously. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Last night, um,” he rubbed the back of his neck, debating on whether or not to just tell you everything.

“Come on, Sam, out with it,” you urged, laughing softly. “It can’t be that bad.”

“You told me something,” he bit his lower lip and you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Oh, God, what did I tell you?” you groaned.

“Dean and you,” your eyes widened as he paused his words. “You guys are not dating, it’s all a pretense to impress Lisa, right?”

“I should just tape my mouth when I get drunk,” you raised your arms up in the air, guilt pouring into you. You should have kept yourself sober. Dean had trusted you with this and at the first sign, there you were spilling your guts.

“I-it’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” Sam reached for your hand, squeezing it reassuringly, easing some of the culpability. “Um, nothing is going on between you and Dean, right?”

“No, we’re just best friends, but Sam,” you pouted up at him. “You can’t tell anyone, please? Not even Dean!”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he assured, giving you a dimpled grin.

“Thank you,” you shot him a grateful expression before having it morph into a concerned one. “How are you doing, by the way? What happened with Jess? Well, if I can ask.”

“She said we were moving too fast,” he sighed. “Guess she was right. We only met three weeks ago and started dating a week after that. Then she’s meeting my parents, and well,” he shrugged. “She’s right. I should haven’t brought her here.”

“I’m sorry, I hope you get to talk to her soon,” you offered sincerely.

“It’s okay,” he chuckled. “Now, what do you say you and I go have lunch together?” he winked, offering his arm for you to lace yours through it.

“Um,” you were floored by how nice he was suddenly being to you. “I kinda recently had breakfast and it was a big one,” you shot him a sheepish grin.

“That’s okay,” he shrugged. “Let’s go back home, then.”

You agreed and clambered into Sam’s car, arriving to the Winchester’s house within minutes. A smile upturned the corners of your lips as soon as you stepped inside. John and Mary were swirling around the living room, his arms around her waist and her head resting on his chest. A romantic ballad was playing through the speakers and it was as if they were the only two people left in the world. John leaned his head down and kissed Mary’s temple, prompting a love-stricken look from her. They were making to kiss when John laid eyes on you and Sam, standing by the front doorway.

“Hey, kiddos,” he chuckled, pecking his wife’s nose. “Didn’t see you there.”

“Hey, sweetie,” Mary pulled away from John’s arms and stepped towards you, giving you a brief hug before focusing her attention on her youngest son. “How are you, Sammy? Is everything alright? Have you spoken with Jess?”

“Nothing, mom,” Sam smiled and wrapped arms around his mom, pressing his lips to her hair. “I’ll be okay. Y/N here has been great company.”

“I’m glad she’s helped,” she winked at you. “I always knew the girl that Dean would bring home would do him good. From the looks of it, you’re also great for us,” she chuckled. “And I can see how much love there is between you and Dean,” she continued, pulling away from Sam to place her hands on your shoulders. Your eyes widened. “My dear, you and Dean are meant to be. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”

“So, mom, what’d you make for lunch?” Sam suddenly interrupted, making you jump. He was successful in deterring Mary of her speech because she went on to drag him with her to the kitchen. Sam turned his head to wink at you as you stood there, speechless.

Before you could think about what she had told you, John chuckled. “She can be overbearing, but she means every word,” he explained.

“Excuse me?” you tilted your head at the older man.

“Mary,” he pointed towards the kitchen. “She kinda floored you there. I know you and Dean have only been together for a week, so—”

“Oh,” you laughed softly. “Um, sorry, yeah, I w-wasn’t, um…”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he rested a hand on your shoulder and smiled. “We’re just glad to see our son is happy.”

“Hey, guys, what’s going on?” Dean stepped into the house, closing the front door behind him with his foot. He shot his dad and you a suspicious glance.

“Your momma kind of scared Y/N,” John chuckled.

“What did she do?” Dean stopped mid-step and held his breath.

“Nothing that’s not obvious already, son,” the Winchester patriarch winked before exiting the room and into the kitchen.

“What did my mom tell you, Y/N?” Dean was next to you in a flash, his emerald eyes searching yours.

“Uh, nothing,” you waved him away, shrugging.

“Tell me,” his hand landed on your elbow and you found yourself giving in to the doe-eyed look he was giving you.

“She said that we’re meant to be, she could see the love there is between us,” you attempted to control your voice, seem nonchalant about the entire situation. Gauging Dean’s reaction, it would affect how you’d act in front of him.

“Well, she’s not wrong,” he chuckled and your eyes widened. He wrinkled his nose and pinched your cheek. “I do love you, Y/N. And I don’t doubt you love me. We’ve been friends for so long, I’m surprised we haven’t dated!”

“What?” you found that you had lost all ability to speak.

“Maybe if we had met now, I think you and me,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You would have been the girl who I would have settled down with. But now you’re stuck with me as your best friend,” he brought you closer and pecked your cheek.

“Jesus Christ, Dean, don’t do that,” you pushed him away, rolling your eyes as he cackled mischievously. “You’re such a little shit, you know that?”

“Your eyes, they were huge,” his uproarious laughter continued until you had gotten fed up with it and kicked his shin. “Ouch! What the hell?”

“How’d it go with Lisa?” you winked.

“It was fine,” Dean shrugged while rubbing the tender spot. “I mean, we still get along and everything is great, but,” he paused.

“You grew up,” you nodded.

“This is why you’re my girl,” he shot you a cheeky grin. “Without me saying anything and you already know what I’m feeling.”

“So, you’re sure there are no feelings between the two of you?” you found yourself asking him. Before he could answer, Mary had announced lunch was ready and that it needed to be eaten quickly before everyone began to prepare for the rehearsal dinner.

Three hours later, you were staring at yourself in the mirror, lips upturning into a satisfied smirk as your hands wandered down your body. The red dress you had chosen fitted your body like a glove and you remembered why you had bought it in the first place. You were startled when there were two knocks to the door before it was being pushed opened. Dean stood behind it, ready to go. He was opening his mouth to ask if you were ready, only to abandon his jaw on the floor. His eyes roved your curves, having never taken them in the way he was now. When he finally did manage to be knocked out of his stupor, he gulped thickly.

“Looks good on me?” you shot him a smug glance.

“Damn, sweetheart,” he laughed breathlessly.

“Come on, now, boyfriend,” you winked, looping your arm through his. “We’re gonna be late to the party.

The Winchesters were never ones to celebrate quietly. The restaurant was brimming with Dean’s family, along with Lisa’s parents and siblings.  There was whooping all around when Mark and Lisa made their entrance and you thought you saw her glance at your table, but her eyes quickly flitted away. Chancing a look at Dean, you realized he wasn’t paying attention, too busy joking around with one of his cousins.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sam took a seat next to you, sweet smile on his face as he offered you a martini.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, thanking him for the drink. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” he looked down, clearing his throat. “Um, gonna bring us food, okay?” he winked at you before getting on his feet and walking towards one of the waiters, who was holding a tray of appetizers.

He came back with shrimp quiches, handing one to you. Too shy to reject it from him, you sucked it up and began to take it to your mouth.

“Nah, don’t think so,” a hand grasped the appetizer from you and before you could protest, it was being shoved into Dean’s mouth.

“Dean, what the—?” Sam scoffed.

“Y/N doesn’t like shrimp,” he spoke through chews. “Or quiches.”

“Nor,” you corrected.

“Hey, I just saved you from forcefully eating this shit,” he glared.

“I couldn’t help myself,” you wrinkled your nose at him and the both of you smiled sarcastically at one another.

“Anyways,” Sam cleared his throat, distracting you from his brother. “You, uh, you look great, Y/N.”

“Hey, buddy, hitting on my girlfriend there,” Dean flicked his brother’s ear, pulling you close to him. You rolled your eyes and nudged his side as Sam scowled.

“Uncle Dean, uncle Dean!” a tiny voice broke through the crowd until a small hand was pulling at Dean’s arm. “Uncle Dean, you here!” You glanced back, only to be met by a pair of blue eyes and bouncy, orange curls.

“Oh, what the—Charlie, you’re too big, no,” he gasped, cupping his face before holding out his arms for the young girl to run into.

“I have growed up, uncle Dean!” she raised her tiny arms as Dean laughed softly, making dramatic expressions. You giggled at this side of him, never having seen it. She squealed as Dean kissed her cheek, making noises against it and having peals of laughter erupt from her lips.

“I see that, sweetheart,” he smiled, sitting her on his lap. “Getting prettier by the day, gonna have to keep the boys at bay for you in a few years.”

“Boys are icky,” she stuck her tongue out.

“That’s my girl,” he chuckled, ruffling her hair.

“Uncle Dean, who is this?” Charlie gave you a shy look, pointing her finger.

“Sweetheart, it’s rude to point,” he kissed her finger.

“Sorry, but, she’s so pretty,” she whispered into Dean’s ear.

“She is, isn’t she?” Dean kept his eyes on you, to which you glanced at the ground, cheeks flushing pink.

“I-is she your girlfriend?” her eyes widened.

“You’re too smart for me, sweetie,” he pecked her forehead. “Charlie, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is Charlie, my favorite niece.”

“Nice to meet you, Charlie,” you held out your hand and the little girl shyly took it, tiny smile on her lips.

“Nice to meet, too,” she mumbled.

“Oh!” Dean suddenly exclaimed. “Charlie, listen!”

“Our song, uncle Dean, our song!” she exclaimed.

“Come on,” he grunted as he stood up, swinging Charlie in his arms. “Let’s dance.”

“Dance!” she laughed as he took her to the center of the dancefloor and began to sway her around. You swallowed thickly as you realized you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. His smile was the widest you had ever seen, his eyes bearing overwhelming love for the tiny human in his embrace. She laid her head on his shoulder as he slowed his swaying until Charlie was struggling to keep her eyes opened.

A man among the throng of Dean’s cousins emerged and took her from his arms, Charlie’s father you presumed. At this, your eyes met the older Winchester’s and neither of you looked away. The lights were dimmed as ‘ _Wonderful Tonight_ ’ by Eric Clapton began to play through the speakers. Taking slow, deliberate steps towards you, Dean kept his glance on you. You felt your hands grow sweaty, your heart lurching.

“Y/N,” he stopped right before you, his hand held out. “Would you like to dance?”

* * *

“D-dean,” you found yourself speechless, his hand beckoning you to accompany him to the dance floor.

“Come on, Y/N,” he winked, the corner of his lip quirking up in a smirk. “It’ll be fun.”

“Okay, yes,” you offered a tiny smile as your hand rested on his palm. Dean’s smile widened and he squeezed his hold and pulled you up to him, his other arm wounding around your waist. Without a warning he held you close and spun around, eliciting a small exclamation from you and a soft laugh from him.

“You do look wonderful tonight,” he leaned in, voice susurrating into your ear. The song continued as you both found a steady rhythm to move to, Dean’s feet guiding yours.

“Thank you,” you had wanted to throw a sarcastic remark to Dean. He was never one to compliment you on your physical appearance. However, one look into his emerald greens and you were convinced he was being sincere.

“I’m sorry I have dragged you into this,” he cleared his throat.

“Don’t worry about it, Dean,” you chuckled. “It’s been fun and I’m looking forward to wearing the dress I bought tomorrow.”

“I bet you’re going to look amazing in it,” he remarked, biting his bottom lip.

“More or less,” you tilted your head, teasing. “But I have to look good to be able to stand next to you. You always look great in tuxes.”

“I do, don’t I?” his smile was smug and you rolled your eyes, prompting a loud laugh from him.

“You most certainly do,” you gently smacked his shoulder before your hand settled on the nape of his neck once again. Dean’s skin prickled at this gesture of yours, pulling you closer to him until your nose bumped into his. You could feel his breath hit your mouth, see his eyes become hooded, only to realize that you were a reflection of him. Your heads tilted simultaneously and before either of you could think twice about it, your lips had met in a soft kiss. It was shy, fragile to the touch, but somehow it sparked courage in Dean to squeeze your body to his and initiate a second kiss.

You gasped at the ferocity of this one, how he demanded a reciprocation from you. Yet you eagerly obliged, kissing back with the same passion he was bestowing upon you. You both got lost in the kisses that followed, arms embracing each other so tightly that you were unsure where he began and you finished. Your ears were ringing with the sounds of catcalls and whooping, but it was all drowned away as your heartbeat thundered in your chest.

It seemed like ages before the two of you pulled away for air. Dean had to hold back a groan at seeing you suck your bottom lip into your mouth. Your eyes met and wide smiles were exchanged. Without really thinking about it, you brought your head down to rest on his shoulder as he continued to sway you both to the next song that had been chosen.

“Hey, um,” Dean cleared his throat after a few minutes.

“Yeah?” you glanced up at him, lips close to his jawline. You were tempted to press a kiss to his skin, but held yourself back. Maybe it was too much. Maybe the kiss was a one-time thing.

“You wanna get out of here?” his voice was deep and grating, sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes,” you brought your head up to look at him with wide eyes. He beamed at your answer, taking your hand and interlacing his fingers with yours.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he pulled you with him, forcing you to run in your high heels.

Halfway out of the vicinity and Sam was pushing Dean back with a hand to his older brother’s chest. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he looked panicked and you bit your lip at the thought that he had seen Dean and you kiss.

“Nothing, Sam,” the older Winchester scoffed. “Just retreating early.”

“Are you alright, Y/N?” the tall man shot you a pleading look, you knew he wanted you to stay with him.

“I’m fine,” your voice was weak as it left your lips, but all you could think of were Dean’s lips against yours.

“Okay,” Sam pulled back, let Dean and you run out of the restaurant. He opted to resort to the open bar for comfort.

“Where are we going?” you glanced at the driver’s side as the blond man pulled out of the restaurant’s driveway.

“Want to go to the lake? Hide from the goose, though,” he smiled.

“As long as it doesn’t see you,” you laughed.

“Awesome,” he winked and the rest of the ride was quiet. Neither of you wanted to ruin the moment between you two, it was as if you said anything, it would all be gone and that was the last thing you wanted.

Once you arrive to the lake, Dean quickly climbed out of the car, going to the trunk and praying that the blankets he had dumped in there weeks ago were still there. Heaven was on his side when he spotted them in the corner, grabbing them and taking your hand as he dragged you to a secluded spot. Surveying the place around you, the both of you concluded that the goose was nowhere to be seen and laid out the sheets on the grass.

Dean pulled you down with him, his body cushioning yours as you fell. He laughed at your gasp, not giving you time to react as he cupped your jaw and tilted your head up, his mouth pressing against yours. He didn’t hold back this time around, tongue brave in parting your lips and exploring the inside of your mouth. Your fingers roved across his broad shoulders, squeezing the nape of his neck on their way upwards and stroking through his short hair, pulling you closer to him.

You laid on your back, his firm body hovering above yours as the kiss deepened. You could feel Dean’s touch become bolder by the second, his fingers grasping your thighs and urging you to wrap a leg around his hips, to which you easily complied. Your dress rode up your hips as you widened your stance to be able to fit him between your legs, his hips hunched down and gasps were exchanged when you felt his hot, thick length press against your core.

“T-tell me to stop,” Dean hissed, pulling away from the kiss and pressing his forehead to yours. “I w-will stop if you want me to, baby.”

“Don’t,” you growled, your tongue licking a path across his jawline and nipping at his earlobe, smirking as it caused him to press his hips downwards.

“F-fuck,” his body shook as he tried to hold himself back. “Y/N, please, take that dress off.”

“I thought I looked gorgeous in it,” you teased.

“Shut up,” he laughed softly, wounding arms around your waist and pulling you up to sit. He brought his head down, kissing your bare shoulders as you tilted your neck to give him more access. His fingers were deft in their quest for the zipper of your dress, quickly having it come undone. With a few awkward positions and laughter, Dean managed to get you out of your clothes and declared it was his turn.

“You should do a strip tease for me,” you winked. “I’ll start humming a random song and you just go along with it.”

“You’re funny,” he shot you a mocking grin.

“Oh, come on, it’ll be hot,” you teased, stretching your body out across the blankets.

“No, it’ll be weird,” he scoffed. “I don’t do strip dancing.”

“Really? I see you and see ‘stripper’ written across your forehead,” you sat up, your hands reaching out to settle on the button of Dean’s dress pants. “You already have the pretty face and great body.”

“Thanks, but no,” he rolled his eyes as you laughed. Despite your teasing, you were eager to see Dean without any clothes on, feeling yourself become wetter at the thought of being able to trace his tattoos with your hands, feel his skin press hot against your own.

Silence settled between the two of you as you quickly undid his pants and pulled them down along with his boxers. His erection sprung out, proud and throbbing, pre-cum beading at the tip.

“Like what you see?” he smirked, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders.

“Don’t be cocky, Dean,” a scoff left your lips and Dean could only laugh, kneeling in front of you. With tenderness, he cupped your face and kissed you, shifting the mood once again. Your hands settled on his sides, fingers indenting his skin as you pulled yourself closer until you were straddling his hips. His length was hot against your thigh, urging you to shift yourself until he was pressing himself right against your wet core, your underwear the only layer between you.

“Y/N,” he moaned, hunching his hips upwards.

“Oh, my God, Dean, just—” with strength you gathered from the frustration of not having him inside you, you grasped at the flimsy cloth and ripped it apart. Dean stared at you with wide eyes as you chucked your underwear somewhere behind your shoulders.

“Desperate to get things going, huh?” he smirked.

“Shut your mouth, Winchester,” you laughed, grinding your hips down and shutting your eyes closed at the feeling of having his bare, hot skin press against your own. He matched the sounds coming out of your mouth, bringing his head down to rest on your shoulder and biting into your skin.

“Come on, Y/N,” his hand wandered down between your bodies, grasping his length and stroking it to somewhat relieve the buildup tension.

“Dean,” you urged, working with him to align your hips to his. Giving him no time to react, you brought your hips down, your walls engulfing the tip of his dick.

“S-shit!” he exclaimed, mouth gaping as you slowly pressed down until you had completely sheathed him inside you.

“I know,” you winked, biting your bottom lip at the wonderful sensation of having his length fully inside you.

“N-now look who’s being cocky,” he grumbled, occasioning a laugh from you.

“Hey,” you smacked his shoulder as he grabbed your hips and began to move you up and down his length.

“F-fuck, you’re so tight and wet,” he threw his head back, pleasure coursing through him in pulsating waves. You leaned down, your mouth pressing kisses to his exposed neck, reveling in the noises that escaped Dean’s mouth with every one of your ministrations.

“Dean,” you angled your hips, eyes crossing as the head hit your sweet spot with quite the accuracy. Your walls were a tight vice around his length and the two of you were soon teetering on the edge of climax.

Desperate to reach orgasm, Dean’s jerked his hips quickly, filling you deliciously with each thrust. You sought out his skin, opening your mouth and biting his shoulder as you came, the pleasure overriding all your senses.

“Y/N, fuck,” Dean cursed as he felt you come around him, length pulsating before he was pulling out of you.

“What’s wrong?” your eyes widened as he stroked himself.

“C-condom,” he gasped, his hand working fast to bring him to his peak. “I c-can’t come inside—” he was cut off by his orgasm, a deep, guttural moan emanating from his mouth as hot cum erupted from the slit of his dick. Some strands landed on your stomach while others decorated Dean’s own belly in white. He gasped as he finished, squeezing his length one last time before letting go.

“Shit,” you rested your forehead on his shoulder, both your chests heaving as you regained your breaths.

“And all of this was because I asked you to dance, huh?” Dean chuckled.

“I would have never taken your hand if I had known,” you badgered him.

“This is on the list of ‘top things’ that has ever happened to you,” he pushed you back to lay on your back, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you close to him. You were making to push away, clean the remnants of his orgasm from your tummy, but Dean only brought you closer until everything was made a mess.

“Dean, come on,” you grumbled, glancing down between your bodies. “There’s nothing to clean ourselves with.”

“We’ll use the blankets later,” he smiled blissfully, lips kissing your temple.

“I can’t believe we just did this out in a public place,” you groaned.

“Talk about a wonderful first time,” Dean pulled his head back and laughed as you rolled your eyes and slapped his chest softly.

“Well, it’s certainly something I won’t forget,” you pulled away from him, sitting up and beginning to grab a corner of the blanket to clean yourself with.

“You’re ruining the moment,” he complained, whiney note to his voice.

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” you grinned. “I didn’t think you were capable of whining.”

“I’m trying to enjoy the post-coital bliss, here,” he raised his arms up.

“We can enjoy it back at your house, come on,” you got on your feet and urged Dean to stand up. Once he did, the blankets were quickly taken off the ground and used to clean the both of you before clothes were being put on.

The ride home was quiet, Dean reaching over to your seat, intertwining your fingers with his. You shot him a small smile before your eyes closed and you rested your head back on the seat. The house was clothed in darkness as the car pulled up. With silent steps, Dean and you ascended the stairs, only to make a ruckus when you forgot there was one last step before you reached the second floor.

You tripped, body hitting the wood flooring with a loud thump. Dean was right behind you, reacting too late and falling right on top of you. He groaned before pushing himself up, asking if you were alright. Your only response was to burst out laughing, prompting the same reaction from him.

“What’s going on?” John walked out of the bedroom, switching on the hallway light. His eyes widened as he saw you and Dean sprawled out on the floor, a mess of limbs and giggles. “Oh, it’s you two,” he snorted, shaking his head. “Get to bed, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean was on his feet in the next second, pulling you up with him. Covering your mouth to not laugh at the disgruntled mess that was John Winchester, you almost tripped on Dean as he paused to open his bedroom door.

Amidst laughter and shared teasing, Dean and you stepped into his room and slammed the door closed. John groaned at the loud noise, closing his own bedroom door and collapsing on the bed next to Mary.

You slept in Dean’s arms that night, your nose pressed against his sternum and his chin resting on your head. Morning came sooner than you’d thought.

“Kids, come on, time to wake up!” Mary knocked on the door, Dean groaning and pulling a pillow above your heads.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbled.

“Five more minutes nothing,” Mary burst through the door, clapping her hands. “The wedding is in a few hours and we have to get ready. Come on, kiddos,” she smacked Dean’s head affectionately.

“God, mom, leave us alone,” he was making to pull you closer, but you had opened your eyes already and felt guilty at having Dean’s mom glared at the both of you, arms crossed over her chest.

“Come on, Dean, let’s get up,” you shook his shoulder, smiling as he whined.

“I trust you to get him ready on time,” Mary winked.

“I will,” you promised, smiling widely when she blew a kiss your way. She retreated from the room without saying anything else, closing the door and leaving you with Dean.

“Let’s not get up yet,” Dean wrapped his arm around your waist, his head nestling on your lap and nose nuzzling against your stomach.

“We have a wedding to go!” you exclaimed. “A bride to impress! Come on,” you clapped your hands. “I’m going to shower first.”

“We should shower together,” he smirked.

“Dean,” you gasped, scandalized. “Your parents and brother are in the house.”

“Who cares?” he shrugged.

“I do,” you hit him with a pillow before grabbing a few clothes and walking out to the bathroom, almost running into Sam. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, having just emerged from the shower.

“Hey,” he smiled down at you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you gulped thickly, trying not to focus so much on the water trickling down his muscled chest. “Everything’s dandy.”

“Great,” he winked at you, walking towards his room. “I’ll see you in a bit. Looking forward to seeing you in that dress.”

You could only smile, tiny exclamatory noise bursting from your lips as he stepped into his room and you into the bathroom.

Your exchange with Sam was quickly forgotten as you were swept up in the flurry of getting ready on time. Within a few hours, though, everyone was regrouping in the living room. You were the last one to descend, having forgotten to put your earrings on. Dean was waiting for you at the foot of the stairs, his eyes widening at the sight of you.

“W-wow, you look beautiful, sweetheart,” he smiled as you stepped next to him, his arm wounding around your waist.

“And you look incredibly handsome,” you shot him a wink, your fingers straightening his tie.

“Let’s do this,” he sighed, following his parents and brother out of the house.

The wedding was gorgeously extravagant, every detail being taken care of by one of the best wedding planners in the town. Family members crowded in the lobby as Dean and you joined the throng of cousins, all deciding to sit together for the ceremony.

It wasn’t long before everyone was urged to stand up as it all began. People muttered happily as Mark made his way down the aisle, elated smile widening as his cousins clapped loudly for him. The flower girls were next, eliciting aw’s from the crowd as they forgot to throw flowers until someone had to help them out.

Everything paused before the organ began to play the Wedding March, heads turned towards the entrance of the room and Lisa stood there, dressed in white and her eyes focused on the journey ahead of her. You could see how nervous she was, her smile coming undone from the nerves. She glanced at you briefly before she settled on Dean. There was something in her eyes that you couldn’t quite name, but you ignored it, thinking yourself paranoid.

The priest asked everyone to sit down as it all began, congratulating the couple for having decided to take their relationship to the next level. Dean had an arm wrapped around you, your hand resting on his thigh.

“Now, Lisa, would you repeat after me?” the older man smiled at the bride, who nodded nervously. “I, Lisa Braeden, take thee, Mark, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

“I, Lisa Braeden,” she cleared her throat before continuing. “Take thee, Dean, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

The entire room froze as she realized her mistake. Dean stiffened next to you and Mark clenched his jaw.

* * *

_“So, where do you want to eat?” Lisa smiled at Dean, finding that she enjoyed the familiarity he offered._

_“I ate breakfast recently,” Dean responded. “So, I’m not that hungry, sweetheart.”_

_“We can always go to the lake,” she whispered, her mind running to all those times they had snuck out to be together in that lake._

_“You still remember that place?” he laughed, shaking his head._

_“You bet I do, my first kiss was there,” she squeezed his elbow, pulling him along. “Come on, let’s go. Just to reminisce.”_

_“Alright,” he followed her lead to their hideout spot, only to remember having been attacked by the goose last night. “Wait,” he pulled back as Lisa shot him an inquiring look. “There’s this goose that lives there now and it hates me. We have to watch out for it.”_

_“I’m sure it won’t be there,” she chuckled, taking his hand in hers and dragging him along._

_Within minutes, they had arrived to the place they had spent so many hours together. It was here where Dean had first confessed his feelings for Lisa, stammering and nervous while fidgeting on his feet. She had responded by straddling him and pressing her lips to his. It had been one of Dean’s happiest moments._

_Their relationship had bloomed from there, stretching out for more than four years and Dean found himself in love for the first time in his life. Lisa was everything he had wanted and more, but the nagging feeling that he was settling down too early in life would not desist. He had dumped Lisa in hopes that he would find himself in the city, settle down and eventually meet the girl of his dreams._

_Now he stood, almost twelve years later, with the same girl he had loved as a teenager. She was getting married and he was faking a relationship with his best friend. Dean shook his head at this thought, hands shoved in his front pockets. He kicked at a stray pebble, sighing deeply and interrupting the silence that had settled between them._

_“I miss you,” Lisa burst out, sliding her hand down Dean’s forearm before pulling his own hand from his pocket and intertwining their fingers. She felt almost relieved at finally being able to touch Dean once again. He had always been her first love._

_“I miss you,” Dean cleared his throat, squeezing his grip. Lisa was always a comforting thought for him, his safe zone. She had known him inside and out, knew when he didn’t like something just by looking at his eyes, or when he enjoyed something, how his smile just seemed to stretch a little wider._

_They both turned to face each other, eyes half-hooded. Not really thinking twice about it, their heads leaned in simultaneously and mouths met in a tender kiss. Dean cupped her face, reveling in the sensation of having her kiss back with the same fervor he remembered from so long ago. Lisa grasped on to his arms, an anchor to the insanity she was currently experiencing right now._

_“W-we can’t,” it hurt to pull away, but Mark was Dean’s cousin and Lisa’s fiancée. He couldn’t do that to his cousin. “Y-you’re engaged and he’s my cousin, Lis.”_

_“Dean, please,” she bit her lower lip, leaning towards him. Dean shook his head, taking a step backwards._

_“It’s too late for this, baby girl,” he chuckled dryly._

_“Please, don’t,” her eyes were misty and Dean had to tear his glance away from her hurt-stricken expression._

_“I-I have to go, I’ll see you tomorrow at_ your _wedding, okay?” he shot her an awkward wave before walking away._

“I-I’m sorry, that was—” Lisa shook her head in panic, eyes widened as she scanned the crowd before settling her glance on the groom before moving to look at Dean, guilt overtaking her expression.

“I had this feeling that you still had something for Dean,” Mark scoffed, stepping away from her. “I wasn’t wrong, I see,” he turned on his heels to face the audience, raising his arms in the air. “Well, folks, the wedding is cancelled. The bride is obviously in love with someone else.” That said, he stepped down the church’s altar and began to walk towards the exit. He had rage in his eyes, but you also caught a glimpse of hurt. You gnawed on your bottom lip, glancing over at Dean. He wasn’t looking at his cousin, his emerald eyes trained on Lisa’s sobbing frame.

“Dean,” you rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Excuse me,” he pulled away, shoving between his cousins until he had made it to the center hallway. You were speechless as he ran towards the front of the room, kneeling right in front of the crying bride. “Lisa, what were you thinking?” he shook her shoulders, demanding an explanation.

“Dean,” she cried out, arms wounding around his neck as she wept into his chest.

“Sweetheart, not in front of everyone,” he groaned. “Alright, alright, let me take you home,” without an explanation, Dean managed to hoist Lisa, and her wedding dress, into his arms and began to run out of the church.

“Son, where do you think you’re going?” John stopped him mid-aisle, eyes furrowing in disapproval. They darted to you before settling on Dean’s once again.

“Lisa needs me, dad,” he only said that before he was out of the church.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam’s hand grasped your elbow, squeezing it to demand your attention.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you smiled, ignoring the raw pain forming a knot in your stomach at seeing Dean run out of the church with his ex-girlfriend. “Remember that it was pretending,” you whispered into his ear.

“Alright, um,” he glanced around and noticed that everyone was now looking at you, waiting for you to react. “We should go home. There’s no point in being here.”

“Y-yeah, let’s go,” you cleared your throat, accepting Sam’s hand and letting him pull you out of the church. He got you into his parents’ car quickly, urging John and Mary to hurry up and ushering them into the backseat quickly before he was revving the engine and storming out of the driveway.

Back at home, Sam seemed to be a ball of energy around you, trying to make you smile and distract you with whatever little thing that he could find. Mary made dinner, serving it and bringing it to the living room so that you wouldn’t have to move from the couch. Despite you insisting you were fine, they fluttered around you, attending to your every need and avoiding the subject of Dean and what he had done.

Around 8pm, you found yourself sitting next to Sam on his bed, playing an old video game he had found while rummaging through the garage. You slapped his shoulder, demanding he be fair, only for him to cackle in return. Mary knocked on the door and the younger Winchester paused the game.

“What’s up, momma?” he smiled at her.

“I rented a movie,” she held out the case excitedly. “I also bought popcorn and we should all go downstairs and have a family movie night!”

“Mom, I don’t think Y/N really wants to—”

“I’d love to,” you grinned, standing up from the mattress and waving Sam to accompany you. Mary clapped at your acceptance of her idea and looped her arm through yours, pulling you to the stairs and down to the first floor.

You watched the first two movies fully awake, only to fall asleep halfway through the third. Your head lulled forward and Sam smiled softly, pressing his palm against your forehead until he had succeeded in having you lean on his shoulder. Mary gave you a tender glance as she realized you had fallen asleep and laid a soft blanket on you, urging Sam not to move from there. Sam had no intention to do so.

You were startled awake by Sam’s shifting around 5am, sitting up and gasping as you realized that you were sprawled on top of him. He put a finger to his lips, hair ruffled in all directions as sleep riddled his eyes. Gulping thickly and letting the scare creep away from your body, you relaxed back on the sofa.

“I knocked out so bad,” you grumbled, draping an arm over your forehead.

“It was a long day, I understand,” he laughed softly. “How are you? I know that we have been avoiding the subject, but…” he trailed off.

“I’m fine, Sam,” you smiled gratefully at him. “It was just a shock but it’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure it was just pretending?” he narrowed his eyes at you and you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

“I-it was,” you sighed, shutting your eyes closed to make it easier to tell him. “It was all fun and games. I don’t know what happened, but then he asked me to dance and we were kissing. Then it was the thing by the lake—”

“The thing, what thing?” Sam scrutinized you.

“He took me to this lake he said he grew up in,” you answered.

“That’s his and Lisa’s lake,” the tall man muttered, only to realize his mistake in telling you.

“Uh, what now?” you stiffened your body, glaring at the youngest Winchester.

“Can you forget I told you that?” he winced.

“No, I won’t,” you scoffed. “Oh, my God, I’m going to punch him.”

“But I thought it was just pretending?” Sam tilted his head. “Why would it be so bad if it’s just pretending? Did something else happened, Y/N?”

“N-no, you’re right,” you cleared your throat, getting on your feet. “I’m overreacting. Clearly, coming here was a mistake. Um, I think I will go back home tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll go with you,” he offered.

“You have to stay back here and spend time with your parents,” you shot him a smile. “Thank you, though.”

“No, I will go back home with you,” he declared. “Now, let’s get some more sleep and we can leave tomorrow at noon, okay?”

He didn’t give you time to react, pulling you up the stairs with him and pushing you into Dean’s room, wishing you a goodnight’s sleep before slamming his own door closed. You didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

Screams brought you out of the room, pulling your hair up into a ponytail before glancing down the steps curiously. Your eyes widened as you recognized Dean’s broad-shouldered frame. His tux was a ruffled mess, the tie hanging loosely on his neck and there were bags under his eyes.

“Come on, mom, where’s Y/N?” he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to get upstairs.

“How dare you do that to her?” Mary stood in the way, not letting him take a single step towards the 2nd floor.

“Mom, I don’t need this right now,” Dean groaned. “Can I just please go talk to Y/N?”

“That girl loves you, Dean,” her voice was trembling from ire. “And you done up leave her stranded in order to go back to Lisa? I thought you and her were done a long time ago!”

“W-we were, momma, but—” he pulled his head up in frustration, only to have his eyes land on you. You stiffened and anger you didn’t know you possessed began to make its way into your chest. Turning on your heels, you were close to closing the bedroom door when Dean stopped it with his foot.

“Dean, don’t you dare,” you warned, going back to folding the clothes you had been previously packing.

“Y/N, this is Lisa, my first love,” he explained. “When she said my name up there, I couldn’t—I couldn’t just leave her.”

“Dean, I told you not to say anything,” you slammed the suitcase closed, getting on your feet and turning to glare at him.

“I know, but I owe you an explanation,” he reached out to take your hand.

“D-don’t touch me,” you scoffed. “You took me to yours and Lisa’s lake? Dean, what the hell?”

“How did you know about—” he widened his eyes before realization overcame his expression. “Sam,” he clenched his jaw.

“Don’t you dare take this out on Sam, you hear me?” your voice dropped low, anger lacing through the notes. “It was have been fine if we wouldn’t have done what we did, Dean? But what the hell?” you raised your arms up.

“Lisa is my—” Dean stopped short, sighing. “I want to give us another chance, Y/N, I hope you understand.”

“I’m trying to, Dean, I am,” you shook your head. “But not when you kissed me the way you did. For God’s sake, we had sex in the lake where you probably took her a million times!”

“I know! I’m sorry, I was just trying to erase her from my mind after we kissed and—”

“You kissed her?!” you screeched, not really believing what you were hearing. Dean’s eyes widened in fear and you inwardly smirked at the reaction you prompted from him.

“It was just a kiss and I guess it was enough for her to be taken back to—”

“Dean, just after you saw her you told me that you were over it,” you groaned. “Why would you lie about something like that?”

“What was I supposed to do, Y/N?” he scoffed. “Tell you about how I had kissed my ex, also known as my cousin’s fiancée?”

“Well, yeah! Instead of sucking _my_ face!” you shot back. “So, what now? You go back to Lisa and try to make it work?”

“Y/N, don’t make this so hard,” he grumbled.

“Just know that everything has changed between us,” your voice trembled as you pointed towards the door. “If you walk out of that door, consider us done, friendship and all.”

“Please don’t do this,” Dean begged. “Y/N, please.”

“I’m going to pack, go back home at noon,” you informed him. “You do what you want, Dean.”

He remained quiet, staring at you as you gave him your back and went back to rummaging through the room, making sure you didn’t leave anything behind. Dean took a deep breath before turning on his heels and stepping out of the room, the door closing behind his broad back.

* * *

Sam was waiting for you in the hallway a few minutes later, his suitcase next to him. He shot you a dimpled smile and walked over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and kissing your temple.

“You okay?” he whispered against your hair.

“I’m fine,” you blinked back the tears. He was being too sweet with you and it was only making it worse. You had never thought that you could hurt so much, but decided to bite back your feelings and leave for home. Maybe there, Dean wouldn’t be able to haunt you.

“Come on,” Sam took your suitcase from your hand. “Let’s get going. Mom and Dad are waiting for us downstairs to say bye.”

“Thanks, Sam,” you squeezed his elbow.

“Don’t mention it, Y/N,” he winked at you and waited for you to started descending the stairs before he followed suit.

Just as Sam had said, John and Mary were at the foot of the stairs, waiting with the door opened. Mary embraced you tightly, kissing your cheek and making you promise that you’d be back soon. John hugged you briefly before helping his son with one of the suitcases.

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Mary walked with you to the car and made sure you were wearing your seatbelt before she stepped back, offering you a gentle smile. You wanted to cry at how sweet she was, blowing a kiss her way before straightening up and grinning at Sam as he revved the engine and pulled out of the driveway.

The drive home was relatively quiet, Sam offering you to play whatever music you wanted. You cheered yourself up with one of the happy playlists on Spotify, occasionally snapping pictures of Sam to put on Snapchat. You knew Dean would look at them and it took all of your self-control to not check up on him and the story he had put on the app.

Around 4pm, Sam was stationing the car in the building’s parking lot and you clambered out of the vehicle, suddenly eager to be back in your apartment. The younger Winchester offered to walk you to your door, but you shook your head, announcing that you’d be fine. He reluctantly left you and stepped into the place he shared with his brother.

You walked into your apartment, smiling softly at the peace it brought you to be alone. So much had changed in just three days and you were grateful to be back home. Dean popped back up in your thoughts and you quickly shook your head, distracting yourself with unpacking your suitcase and cleaning up your place.

Doing chores only kept you distracted for a few hours, until you were brushing your teeth and spilled toothpaste all over your t-shirt. Rolling your eyes, you washed up and took the shirt off, your eyes settling on the hawk perched on your hipbone. Your fingertips traced the inked skin, remembering how Dean had fawned over it the morning after you had gotten it.

Dean had always been there for you, as you had always stuck with him whenever he was having a hard time. He had been the one who had helped you get over your ex, knowing just what to do to keep your mind off of the jerk. Tears stung in the back of your eyes as you collapsed on your knees, realization dawning on you that now you had to heal yourself without him there. He had been the one who hurt you and you really didn’t know what to do.

Dean had dug himself deep into your existence and amidst tears and sobs, you realized that you loved him, and not in a platonic way. You had fallen hard for him and it had only taken you three days to realize it. With tears fogging your vision, you got on your feet and slowly made your way to your bed, collapsing face down on the mattress. Despite numerous attempts, you could only sob into your pillow, until hours later, sleep had taken you captive.

Sam was knocking on your door early the next morning, fist pounding the wood relentlessly until you had swung it open, glaring up at him through sleep-riddled eyes. He grinned and asked if you wanted to go out for breakfast, to which you shook your head.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, let’s go eat,” he chuckled, nudging your side.

“Let me rest,” you pushed him away and he fell dramatically on the couch, prompting a small smile from you.

“I ran into Jess this morning,” he muttered.

“No way,” you snapped your head up and took a seat next to his collapsed frame. He groaned as he sat up and shot you a sad grin.

“Yeah, she looked gorgeous,” he sighed. “I hid from her view, though. Didn’t want to talk to her just yet.”

“Why not?” you rolled your eyes. “Sammy, you belong with her.”

“We broke up because she saw us kissing, Y/N,” he blurted out. You widened your eyes as your jaw fell slack. “You were drunk and you didn’t remember, and I didn’t want you to be embarrassed about it, so I didn’t tell you anything. But—”

“How can you not tell me something like that?” you shrieked. “What is it with the Winchesters and withholding information from me? Stop doing that!” you pinched his arm.

“Ouch, I’m sorry!” he defended.

“For heaven’s sake, you both are idiots,” you groaned, pulling your head back in frustration. “Go tell Jess that I made a mistake and fix that wrong, right now, Sam!”

“B-but—”

“Go!” you pointed at the door, glaring at him.

“Fine,” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Wish me luck, okay?”

“Good luck,” you gave him a thumbs-up. He was halfway out the door when he turned on his heels and smirked at you.

“You also said you liked me, not Dean,” he clicked his tongue.

“Yeah, well, I was stupid back then,” shooting him a sarcastic smile, you burst out laughing at his pout. “Nah, but it was just a crush that I quickly got over. So, tell Jess she’s got nothing to worry about.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Sam shot you a grateful smile before stepping out the door, leaving you alone once again.

You spent the rest of the day sulking around in your apartment, eating ice cream straight from the bucket and watching _Dirty Dancing_ multiple times throughout the afternoon and into the night. Tissues littered the floor by midnight and you grumbled to yourself about how you were going to pick them up tomorrow, too tired to do so at the moment. You cried yourself to sleep once again.

A week later and you finally decided to go out in public. The only thing urging you to do so was that you had run out of ice cream and basically all the canned food you kept in the pantry. Straightening yourself up into a somewhat decent state, you walked into the supermarket, grabbing a basket and sighed in relief when you noticed there were barely any people there.

Shuffling through the aisles, you were quick to find what you needed and made your way to the registers. You jumped as you felt a hand on your elbow, head snapping back to see who it was.

“Hey, how are you?” he smiled warmly at you and you took a minute to realize who he was. “It’s me, Steve, from the bar. I don’t know if you remember me?”

“Of course I do,” you nodded your head. “Sorry, I’m not in the best state right now.”

“Oh, everything okay?” he shot you a concerned look.

“Yeah, just going through some personal stuff,” you responded. “Anyway, how are you? How come we’re running into each other so far away from the bar?” you chuckled.

“Well, I live like five minutes away from here,” he pointed northwards.

“Oh, me, too, but I live south of here,” you gestured the opposite way.

“Uh, is your boyfriend—” Steve began to ask.

“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” you rolled your eyes. “He was just incredibly stupid. I’m sorry about that whole ordeal.”

“That’s no problem,” he motioned for you to go first in line and you shot him a thankful wink.

Steve stuck around you after that encounter, asking you out on various dates and being the one person that could distract you from the pain you felt every time Dean Winchester appeared in your thoughts. You refuged yourself in the man’s sweet smile, enjoying his gentle disposition and admiring his big heart. He was selfless in every way and always there for you. Pretty soon, you were declaring him your boyfriend and putting pictures of him up on Snapchat and the likes.

Mary glared at her eldest son as he ate the lunch she had prepared for him. She tapped her foot on the floor until he dropped his utensils and raised his arms.

“What, mom, what?” he scoffed.

“Lisa is not right for you, sweetie,” she wrinkled her nose.

“Well, you’re right to the point,” he shook his head, picking his fork back up again and piercing right through one of the steak pieces, bringing it up to his mouth.

“Are you sure you’re happy with her?” she urged, sitting down across from Dean and grabbing his free hand, squeezing it tightly. “I know she’s your first love and all, but Y/N was just perfect for you. She understood you so well and the way you looked at her. You don’t look at Lisa that way, kiddo.”

“Mom,” he groaned. This was the last thing Dean needed right now. He had been having trouble adjusting to life with Lisa, slowly realizing that the two of them had grown up to be starkly different from the teenagers that had fallen in love so long ago.

“Y/N has a boyfriend now, and he’s gorgeous,” she sighed. “It just saddens me that it’s not you.”

“Say what now?” Dean couldn’t believe his ears. “She has a boyfriend? What the hell?”

“Language, Dean,” Mary shot him a disapproving scowl.

“Sorry, momma,” he pouted. “But how do you know she has a boyfriend?”

“Snapchat! She made it for me before she left so we could keep in touch,” Mary slid her phone across the table.

“Oh, no wonder, she deleted me from Snapchat,” he grumbled, unlocking the device and finding the desired app. Once there, he pressed your icon and went on to watch the 60 something seconds you had of funny videos and pictures with your new boyfriend. Dean felt his heart sink and bile rise up his throat. His jaw clenched and he could only see red. There was no way Steve and you were getting along so well.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Mary smugly inquired.

“Yeah, um, I gotta go,” the chair screeched as Dean slid it back, getting on his feet. He grabbed his jacket from the coat rack and shrugged in on, walking out of the house without another word.

“What do you say we watched _The Avengers_?” you held up the DVD case at Steve as he lounged back on the couch, waiting for you to settle down with him for your planned movie night.

“Sure, baby, whatever you want,” he shot you a smile.

“Awesome,” you slid the disc into the slot and grabbed the remote before sitting next to your boyfriend, letting him take you into his arms. He kissed your forehead and you smiled softly, pressing ‘play.’

Halfway through the movie, your door swung open and Steve was on his feet in an instant. You followed suit, your eyes widening as you recognized the wide shoulders, dirty blond hair, and emerald green eyes.

“Dean—”

“I love you,” he declared, stepping towards you, ignoring Steve. “Walking away from you was the stupidest, worst mistake I have ever made. I have always loved you and I’m sorry for what I did, but I’ll do anything, _anything_ , to have you in my life again, Y/N. I can’t, I can’t live without you.”

Dean’s chest heaved, having ran up the stairs to your apartment. You stood frozen, staring at him.

* * *

“Dean, what are you—” you fell your heart constrict, seeing him right in front of you.

“Excuse me, how can you walk in here and say those things?” Steve’s voice was dripping with rage, but you can tell he was trying his hardest to contain himself. You squeezed his bicep and he shot you a glance before glaring at Dean.

“Hey, this is none of your business, man,” the older Winchester scoffed.

“It is my business, I’m Y/N’s boyfriend. So, I suggest you walk out soon, buddy,” Steve gestured towards the door.

“Y/N, please,” Dean waved your boyfriend away, his emerald eyes imploring you. “Hear me out.”

“No,” your voice shook, but in that moment, the heart wrenching pain he had caused you came back to you. Your will was set on iron and nothing he could say could budge you. “Get out, Dean.”

“Y/N, I love you, I’m sorry—”

“Get out!” you screeched.

“Hey, she said—” Steve had walked up to Dean, who was incredibly frustrated by now. Without really thinking about it, the Winchester’s arm swung back and a startling crack was heard.

“Oh, my God, baby,” you ran over to your boyfriend, who was now glaring up at the man who had broken your heart. “Are you alright?” you knew Steve could easily match Dean in a fight, but he was always the sweetheart, never one to initiate a fight.

“Don’t ever get in between her and me, do you understand?” Dean warned.

“You and I are nothing,” your head turned to look at your former best friend. “Not after what you did. So, get out,” you enunciated each word with rage. Dean was parting his lips to beg you to let him stay when you got on your feet and stomped over to where he was standing. Your hands met his firm chest and with all the strength you had, you began to push him to the door. Tears ran down your cheeks, anger fueling your every move.

Dean looked into your eyes, void of any care for him. He had truly lost you, and all because he had been scared of the future and had sought out a haven in his past. Lisa had been everything he had ever desired in a relationship, but that had been twelve years ago. Dean had grown to need you, and only you. He saw his world come crumbling down, piece by piece with every step you took in kicking him out of your home, the one he had been welcomed into for so many years.

“Don’t do this, Y/N,” his voice was meek, betraying the sadness compressing his chest.

You couldn’t say another word to him. After what seemed like hours of pushing, he stood outside your apartment. Your hand shook as it reached for the doorknob, fingers almost slipping. But you managed to do it, were able to slam the door in his face. You were able to shut out what had been the most important part of your existence for six years. And that’s when every breath you took began to hurt.

You turned your body around, your back pressing against the wooden surface. Feeling your knees buckle, you barely felt it when you hit the ground. All you could focus on what the ripping apart of your sanity.

Steve was next to you in a heartbeat, his arms surrounding you. They were gentle as they hoisted you up, his scent invading your nostrils. He smelled like cologne and cleanliness, he smelled nice. But he didn’t smell like home. Dean smelled like home to you, with the smell of generic soap and greasy oil always lingering when he was around. You had come to associate it with your happiness. His smile had put a silver lining on your problems for years, and now your world was coming apart at the seams.

Your boyfriend stayed the night for the first time since you had begun to see each other. He patiently shushed your cries, pressing kisses against your temple, assure you everything was going to be alright. You clung to him, pretending he was someone else.

Morning came and with sadness in his eyes, Steve kissed your forehead. Seeing you lying by the door, hearing your cries throughout the night, it had only helped him see. You would only love Dean, you would only see the green-eyed man. Steve was but a filler for the void inside you and nothing he could offer to do would help.

He left a note by your night table, written in that neat letter of his. He’d miss you so much, but what you and Dean had, he’d never be able to match it. You barely noticed his absence. Crumpling the note and tossing it into the trash bin, you got up the next morning, trying to mend yourself all over again.

Sam and Jess walked into the Winchesters’ apartment, giggling together over Jess almost tripping on a peeing Chihuahua that the old lady that lived in the first floor of the building owned. Jess playfully smacked her boyfriend’s shoulder as he cackled loudly, only for both of them to stop short at the sight before them.

Plates, lamps, cushions, vases, and things Sam didn’t even know they owned, were all torn apart, strewn about the living room floor. His brother was lying in the midst of the mess, complementing the chaos. His hair pointed in all directions, bags under his eyes, a puddle of drool forming where his mouth remained opened as he slept.  The younger Winchester spotted an empty spirit bottle by Dean’s hand and his jaw clenched. Something had gone horribly wrong.

“Dean, Dean,” he kneeled next to his brother, shaking his shoulders. The blond man groaned out his displeasure at being roused, swinging his hand to push Sam away from him. But alcohol still ran through his veins and Sam evaded the hit. With help from Jess, the tall man managed to drag Dean to his room, dropping him on the mattress.

“Could it be that something happened between him and Y/N?” Jess questioned as they began to clean up everything Dean had done in his drunken rage fit.

“When we’re done cleaning, we should go check up on her,” Sam sighed, wanting to pinch the bridge of his nose. He had been looking forward to spending time with Jess, make up for the time lost, but now it looked like it was their mission to see what had happened between his older brother and you.

An hour later and you were opening the door to the couple, your eyebrow shooting up your forehead at seeing the both of them in front of you.

“What the hell?” you stepped aside, letting them inside.

“Um, are you okay?” Sam looked around your apartment, surprised that it was spotless. Apparently, this had only affected Dean.

“Y-yeah, why?” you tilted your head, trying to feign carelessness.

“Dean’s back home,” he paused, assessing your reaction.

“O-oh, awesome,” you cleared your throat, making your way to the kitchen. “You guys want anything to drink? Nice to see you, Jess, by the way,” you shot her a wink.

“Likewise, Y/N,” she offered you a reluctant smile, glancing at Sam, who wanted to pull out his hair from the frustration. He really didn’t want to deal with you and Dean avoiding one another.  

“Y/N, what really happened between you and Dean?” Sam figured out that he might as well be straight to the point. He knew that if you really wanted to avoid the subject, you could do it all day and he really didn’t want to spend more time trying to resolve this.

“Nothing,” you shrugged. “Are you sure you don’t want water, orange juice, milk?”

“No, we’re good,” the youngest Winchester waved your offer away. “Y/N—”

“Look, Sam, there’s nothing to say,” you groaned, pulling your head back in a dramatic gesture of the frustration you were experiencing. “Dean barged in here last night while I was with my boyfriend, well now he’s my ex, and just told me he loved me.”

“And you—”

“I kicked him out,” you snorted. “Who the hell does he think he is just walking in here with no regards to what I’m doing or who I’m with? And after what he did?”

“I found him on the floor of the living room,” Sam blurted, stopping you short as you were bringing a glass of cold water to your lips. “He was passed out cold, an empty liquor bottle by him. Everything was a mess. You know how he gets when he’s mad and drunk.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you demanded. “I don’t want anything to do with your brother.”

“Come on, Y/N, you don’t really mean that,” Sam tried to reason with you.

“No, Sam, what he did,” you inhaled sharply. “I can’t just look past it just because he had a drunken night and suddenly claims he loves me.”

“I know, but—”

“Sam, don’t,” you interrupted him. “I’m not going to go to him. We’re done.”

“Fine,” he saw it useless to argue with you. If he left you alone for a couple of weeks, maybe you’d soften up. Taking Jess’ hand, he said goodbye to you and slammed the door close behind himself.

Around 4pm, your cell phone rang and without glancing at the screen, you picked it up.

“Hello?” you coughed, having not spoken in hours. You suddenly felt thirsty.

“Y/N,” a deep voice made you sit up and you squealed.

“Cas? Oh, my God, Cas?” you laughed happily. It had been months since you last spoke to your favorite cousin.

“Y/N! How are you?” he chuckled, elated that you were glad to hear from him.

“I’m doing fine, how are you? Are you in town? Please tell me that’s why you’re calling?” you pouted.

“That’s exactly why I’m calling,” he responded. “Meet you in the usual spot in an hour?”

“Deal,” you hung up the phone and with newfound excitement, ran to your room to get ready.

Running into your cousin’s arms relaxed you significantly and he squeezed you tightly, as if he knew that you desperately needed some comfort. Cas had already bought you your favorite coffee and settling down in the farthest table from the main entrance of the coffee shop, you both updated one another on your lives.

Cas had been studying architecture in one of the nation’s most prestigious schools and so far, he wanted to gouge his eyes out from how stressful everything was becoming. The competition in the market was brutal and you spent your time encouraging him, reassuring Cas that he’d be just fine. The man was a bubbly, charismatic personality that made everyone love him as soon as they met him.

“So, tell me about you,” he sipped his hot tea. “What’s new, Y/N?”

“Well, um, I got dumped this morning,” you drummed your fingers on the table.

“Oh, that cute guy you were always putting on Snapchat?” he questioned. Once you nodded, Cas clicked his tongue. “I knew you two wouldn’t last.”

“No, you didn’t,” you scoffed, taking a sip from the coffee.

“I did,” he winked at you playfully. “Honestly, I always thought you were perfect with that hunky neighbor of yours. What’s his name again? Dean? Dean, yes!”

“Cas,” you groaned.

“What? I’m being serious,” he laughed softly. “The entire family has this bet thing going on, on how long it takes you two to get together. Ever since you took him to that family dinner like two years ago. We’ve all been waiting for you two to get together.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” you shook your head, rolling your eyes.

“You know you belong with him,” he poked your shoulder. “Why are you so insistent on denying it?”

“He’s just not—we don’t match,” you shrugged, waving the subject away. “Anyway, how’s Uncle Chuck? And Gabe? What about Michael and Raphael? They’re still at it with Luci?”

“They’re always fighting,” Cas rolled his eyes dramatically. “It’s tiring. They always act like it’s the end of the world. Dramatic bastards,” he mumbled before bursting out laughing with you.

“Oh, gosh, they always took things to the extreme,” you giggled.

“Remember that one time that we had to hide for a few hours because Michael kept firing that paintball gun at Luci and you got in the crossfire?” he gasped.

“Michael bruised my arm, yeah,” you shook your head, reminiscing. “And then Luci went and told Uncle Chuck and mom. They ripped Michael a new one.”

“Can’t believe they’re still at it, for every little thing,” Cas murmured. “I believe they’ll die fighting.”

“Same here,” you agreed.

You spent the next few hours in the company of your cousin, sharing laughs and reminiscing on days gone by. Walking you to your building, he embraced you tightly and promised on visiting you again soon. You threatened to hurt him if he didn’t. Just before leaving, he threw you one last reminder. “You better be together with Dean next time I see you!” he screeched as he climbed into the taxi. You gulped thickly, shaking your head and tried to chase that thought out of your mind.

A week passed, no contact was made with the Winchesters. Somehow, you managed to get by, despite missing Dean greatly. Seeking out refuge in your writing, you isolated yourself in walls of words and plots, trying to figure out how to make everything mesh together seamlessly.

Most of the time, your work kept your mind far away from that blond hair and green eyes, but he still haunted your dreams. You’d wake up with tears in your eyes, knowing that he wouldn’t be there with you throughout the day.

What usually took you two weeks to write due to Dean being a constant bother, only took you one. Sending your manuscript off to various publishing houses, you found yourself seeking out new stories to make up, try to fill the thoughts that Dean seem to never leave.

A particular Friday night, you were channel surfing, having given up on writing for the night, when your phone rang. Thinking it was Cas, you answered it, only to be taken by surprised.

“Y/N,” his voice was slurred, but you’d always recognize it, sober or not. “Y/N, p-p-please don’t hang up,” he burped and you winced. “N-need your help,” a hiccup stopped his sentence short and you rolled your eyes. “G-getting home.”

“No, Dean, call Sam,” you pinched your chin before moving your hand up to stroke your cheek in frustration.

“N-no answering!” he exclaimed. “Y-you the only I c-call.”

“Fine,” you sighed, getting on your feet. “Where are you? Wait, why am I even asking. Put the bartender or something on the phone.”

“O-okay,” Dean giggled. There was rustling and then a masculine voice spoke into the device. You asked where the bar was and after giving you directions, you hung up. Sliding your phone into your front pocket, you grabbed a jacket from the coat rack and stepped out of your apartment.

The place was easy to find and as you stepped into the dinky bar, Dean was quick to spot you, waving his arms around until you were standing next to him.

“Okay, come on,” you grabbed his arm and wrapped it around your shoulder.

“Hey, lady, sorry, but he hasn’t paid,” the brunet employee shot you a polite smile.

“Sorry, yeah,” you reached for Dean’s wallet, who giggled at having your hand in his pocket. Grabbing some of the Winchester’s cash, you slid it across the counter and told the bartender to keep the change. He dismissed you with a small ‘thank you’ and you were on your way with a heavy, drunk Dean draped on your side.

Sam was nowhere to be found when you got to Dean’s apartment and you figured he was spending the night at Jess’ place. Luckily, you knew that the boys kept a spare key under the rug and quickly fetched it, opening the door to the loft you hadn’t been inside of in weeks. Sighing softly, you tried not to look around, in case you missed it all too much. Just being next to Dean was doing horrible things to your self-control and all you wanted to do was to dig yourself into his side.

Ignoring his sad whimpers at not staying in bed with him, you pulled the bed sheets over his large frame and placed a glass of cold water on his night table. You were making to turn on your heels and walk out when Dean wrapped his fingers around your wrist, pulling you back.

“Don’t leave, p-please,” he pleaded. “S-stay with me, I k-know I w-was dumb, but—”

“Sleep well, Dean,” you squeezed the fingers he had around your wrist with your free hand, forcing him to let go. “I left you some water so you could drink it tomorrow or in a few hours, whenever you feel like it, okay?”

“Y/N,” the sadness in his voice made your heart hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain he had caused you barely a little over a week ago.

“Bye, Dean,” stepping out of his room, you paid no mind to your surroundings, the ringing in your ears too loud, the tears flowing unbidden from your eyes. Not really knowing how you got from one place to another, you collapsed on your own bed, a heaping mess of sobs and curled fists.

* * *

_“Dean,” you unlocked your best friend’s door and popped your head into an empty apartment. “Dean, I’m remodeling and you promised you’d help me paint the walls.” There was no reply and you rolled your eyes. You knew he was around here somewhere. Slamming the door closed behind you, you made sure your steps were loud enough to be heard around the loft._

_He always did this. When he didn’t want to help you out or when he had something to do, he always hid somewhere around his house until you found him. You looked in the coat closet first, your search futile as you kicked around the jackets hanging on the rack. Although in his late twenties, Dean sometimes acted like a child. You thought it adorable at first, but after several years of dealing with this side of him, you found yourself wanting to smack him. He was wasting your time._

_“Dean, I’m serious,” you groaned, stomping your foot on the wooden floor. “I swear, I’ll kick your ass when I find you.”_

_“Ha, as if,” a muffled voice from inside the bathroom blurted out. You smirked, striding over to the door and pushing it open. Dean was doing the same and you stumbled into him, his body cushioning your fall as you both collapsed. His eyes were wide and he smiled innocently when you scowled down at him._

_“You’re so intolerable sometimes,” you exclaimed, slamming your palm against his pectoral._

_“You love me,” he laughed, wrapping arms around your shoulders and squeezing you to him._

_“I can’t breathe,” you coughed out as he laughed hysterically, his hold on you unyielding. Eventually, he let go and you were a mess of flailing limbs trying to get on your feet._

_Several minutes later had Dean grumbling about having to change his shirt because he really didn’t want to ruin the one he was wearing. You flicked his forehead and warned him to hurry up, it was already noon and there was much to be done._

_The painting of the walls began as soon as you had covered all your furniture and Dean sighed as he picked up a brush. He leaned down and hid a smirk from you as an idea popped up in his mind._

_“Say, Y/N,” he exclaimed._

_“What, Dean, what?” you sighed, looking up from the booklet you had used as an inspiration for the remodeling._

_“Does this paint smell funny to you?” he dabbed his brush into the liquid, bringing it up to his nose and sniffing, his expression wrinkling in disgust._

_“Really?” your eyes widened. The last thing you wanted to do was return to the shop and demand a refund for having them sell you something faulty._

_“Yeah, look,” he held out the brush. You should have known what was coming, but naively, you leaned forward and inhaled. Dean’s laugh followed the wet swipe against your nose and mouth. You recoiled backwards, screeching his name as he bent over from laughing so hard._

_“You’re a dead man, Winchester,” you growled._

_“I can’t believe you fell for that,” he stepped back, his hands held up. “You ought to know me by now, Y/N.”_

_You ignored him, picking up the full bucket of paint. Without really thinking of the consequences to your flooring, you swung the paint at Dean. His indignant squawk prompted a loud laugh from you and that’s how battle was declared._

_He retaliated by drenching his hands in the purple paint, smirking as you swiveled on your heels to run away from him. He was faster than you, his arm swinging backwards before you heard a loud smack. An indignant huff left your lips as you realized that Dean has smacked your butt with the palm of his hand and had left behind the evidence on your jeans._

_“These were one of my favorite pairs,” you whined._

_“Guess you should have followed my example and changed out of them,” he shrugged nonchalantly._

_No painting was done that day as every drop of it ended up either on you, Dean, or the floor. Although you ended up spending the night cleaning up the mess, you had never told him that you had kept the jeans, his handprint remaining there even after a few years._

_A year after meeting him, Dean was already pretty accustomed to spending most of his days at your place, mostly bugging you and distracting you from writing, along with depleting your fridge and pantry of food. He was always snooping around your place, looking for embarrassing pictures of you growing up and laughing for hours until you had ended up smacking him across the head._

_A particular day, you had gone out to do your weekly grocery shopping and Dean decided to be a little mischievous. He snuck into your apartment and hid inside the pantry closet, patiently waiting for you to arrive._

_You didn’t disappoint him. Fifteen minutes later, he heard the sound of a key being slid into the lock and your steps approaching the kitchen. He crouched, bracing himself to jump out. Unbeknownst to him, you had heard his shuffling about and grabbed a baseball bat you always kept under the living room sofa, dropping the grocery bags on the dining room table._

_Cautiously, you approached the closet, bat ready to swipe at the intruder. Dean smirked, kicking the door opened and jumping out, all while roaring in an attempt to make his scare even more dramatic. You swung at him, realizing that it was Dean too late. The bat hit his forehead and he grunted before toppling to the ground._

_“Oh, my God!” you gasped, the weapon clattering to the floor as you knelt beside him. A purpling bruise was starting to form on his temple and you smacked his face, trying to get him to regain consciousness. “Dean, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was you,” you shook his shoulder._

_Your panic somewhat eased when his eyelids fluttered and he groaned out in pain, hand flying to his head. A hiss escaped his lips when he felt the tender spot. His eyes landed on your nervous frame._

_“We have to get you to the hospital,” you winced, knowing just how much he detested the place._

_“I’ll be fine,” he began to sit up, only to fall back on the floor once again._

_“No, we have to go,” you insisted. Leaving him to try to regain his balance, you got on your feet and ran to the fridge, grabbing a cold compress from the freezer. Dean was sitting up when you got back to him and you gently placed the icy patch on him._

_“I should sue you for what you just did,” he mumbled._

_“It’s your fault for trying to be sneaky when you know I have a baseball bat lying around,” you rolled your eyes. His arm wounded itself around your neck and you wondered how you’d be able to get all the way downstairs with him basically draped on you the entire time._

_Ten minutes later and you had him strapped to the passenger seat of his car, clambering into the driver’s side and revving out of the parking lot. Dean protested all the way to the hospital and you put up the music to drown out his words._

_The nurse made you fill out paperwork once you got there. Surprised at how much you knew about him, you scribbled his information down without really having to ask him anything except for one or two questions._

_“Why’d you bring me here?” he whined, leaning his head on your shoulder. “Y/N, they’re going to prod me with needles and I’ll probably wither away in this very seat.”_

_“You’re so dramatic,” you snorted, stopping yourself from flicking his forehead. “All they’re going to do is assess if you’re doing okay.”_

_“Asses?” he smirked._

_“Dean, you’re an idiot,” you shook your head, smiling despite yourself._

_He whined every minute he was there until a nurse made him sit on a wheelchair, beckoning you to follow them as she brought him into one of the numerous rooms. Expertly taking his blood pressure and all the essentials, she announced that the doctor would be in soon._

_“I’m gonna die here, aren’t I?” he panicked, looking around the room. “I know it.”_

_“You’re not gonna die,” you laughed. You were parting your lips to tell him that everything would be fine when Dean’s assigned doctor strode into the room. You inhaled sharply at just how handsome he was, floored by his height._

_“Good afternoon,” he winked at you before his eyes settled on Dean. “I’m Dr. McGarrett, and you must be Dean Winchester.”_

_“Just get it over with, doc,” your best friend rolled his eyes and you pinched his side in reprimand._

_“Behave,” you said through gritted teeth._

_The doctor performed a few tests on Dean before disappearing for a bit, all the while he stole glances your way while you fluttered your eyelashes flirtatiously at him. Within a few minutes he was back with the results._

_“You have a mild concussion, Mr. Winchester,” Dr. McGarrett shot him a smile before he glanced over at you. “He’ll have to have plenty of bed rest and—”_

_“I’ll make sure he does,” you promised. Dean scoffed, raising his hands up in the air._

_“I could be dying here and you two lovebirds wouldn’t notice!” he exclaimed._

_“Dean, shut up,” you glared at him._

_“Well, Mr. Winchester, I do hope you get better soon. Come back if your condition worsens, though,” he shook Dean’s hand and turned to you. “Ms-” he paused and you told him your name, shaking his hand and letting your touch linger. “Ms. Y/N, I wanted to know if you’d be okay seeing me for lunch tomorrow.”_

_“I’d love that, yes,” you grinned at him._

_“I’m literally right here,” Dean gave a little wave, reminding you both of his presence. With a few more words and a date set for the following day, you and Dean left the hospital._

_The following week, he spent it pestering you and demanding to be taken care of, blackmailing you for beating him with a bat._

_“What are you doing tomorrow?” Dean glanced up from a magazine he was reading as you typed away on your laptop._

_“My job, like always,” you paused, shooting him a squinty-eyed look. “Why?”_

_“I got a dentist’s appointment, apparently my wisdom teeth are causing me problems,” he pointed towards his mouth. “I was wondering if you could—”_

_“I’ll go with you, don’t worry,” you shot him a soft smile, already looking forward to seeing Dean fidgeting about having to have his teeth extracted._

_The next morning had you sitting down next to a nervous-looking Winchester, his foot tapping continuously on the floor. You placed your hand on his knee, squeezing it and clicking your tongue. He apologize for being a twitching mess, sending a sheepish smile your way._

_The dentist’s assistant called his name and you could see the obvious attraction in the woman’s eyes as she took a good look at Dean, prompting you to scoff to yourself. You were sure they were going to treat him quite well in there._

_Two hours later had that same girl ushering a swollen-jaw Dean out the door, her arm squeezing his waist as she helped you bring him to the car. She gave you advice on what to feed him and how many hours you had to wait between the doses of medication he had been given, expertly hiding her disdain for you._

_“I’m stuck taking care of you like a child, huh,” you muttered once you strapped the seatbelt on him._

_“Why isn’t mommy here to take care of me?” the blond man cried out, his words muffled._

_“I’m here to take her place, sweet cheeks,” you winked at him._

_“But you’re—” he sniffled. “You have to write your stories and—oh! You could write—”_

_You shut him off as you slammed the door closed, thanking the woman and clambering into the vehicle. Dean blabbered incoherencies throughout the entire ride back home and even two hours later, despite being quite sleepy from the anesthesia._

_You took care of him, patiently waiting for the swelling to go down and feeding him ice cream whenever he demanded it. It was there that you got to know just how much he moved when he was asleep, his dreams being portrayed in his facial expressions. Later, when he’d wake up, you would make him tell you about them and he tried to, although mostly he just forgot them all._

_A week after he had healed, it was Dean’s turn to repay for having you take care of him. You came home sneezing constantly after having been caught in the rain and he expressed his worry. Your immune system wasn’t the best and you had always had problems with allergies since you were a kid._

_He reached up into your medicine cabinet, fetching Vitamin C and Zinc, handing them over to you along with a full glass of water. With a stern look, he made sure that you had taken them before demanding that you took a break from your writing to watch a movie with him._

_You fell asleep on the couch, his arm covering your shoulder as your head leaned on his chest. Dean began to drift off when you suddenly sneezed, scaring the both of you._

_“Oh, God, my head is pounding,” you whimpered._

_After a firm ‘I told you so’ from Dean, he laid you back on your bed and spent the rest of the day catering to your every need. He even made chicken soup and you were surprised he knew how to. He scoffed indignantly when you made that comment and shook his head as you laughed._

_You urged him to go home, to sleep and have time to himself on his day off. Instead, Dean stubbornly laid next to you, surfing through the channels and making a call to his workplace, announcing he wouldn’t be able to go the following day due to personal problems. You swat at his stomach, reprimanding him for doing such a thing, but he only responded by shooting you a cheeky grin before declaring it was time for you to take your cold medication._

_Those few days of being bedridden served to show you just how sweet and caring your best friend was. He always displayed a cold demeanor and wasn’t one to show his emotions, but it was quickly becoming the opposite with you. Dean was opening up to you and letting you in to parts of himself no one else had seen. And you felt incredibly special because of that._

You woke up, your head pounding and eyes swollen. Wondering why you were still wearing yesterday’s clothes, you sat up and glanced around your room. Memories of last night flooded your thoughts and pain settled back in your chest. Dean had drunkenly called you and after you had brought him back home, he had pleaded you to stay. Yet you couldn’t see past the heartbreak he had caused you and you had left him back in his apartment, crying until you had fallen sleep in your own bed.

Forcing yourself to get on your feet, you stumbled into your bathroom and took a long, hot shower. Despite wanting to remain in bed all day, you decided to go out and drink a cup of coffee before buying a few groceries. You had found a recipe you wanted to make and it was a somewhat good way to distract yourself from having your thoughts stray to Dean.

A few hours later, arms laden with paper brown bags, you unlocked your front door. You stopped short, your eyes settling on the floor, which was littered with what you recognized to be your favorite flower. Dean sat in the middle of the room and he glanced up as he heard you walk in. His shoulders stooped, exhaustion framing his expression. Yet he managed to smile softly as you dropped the bags to the ground.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you scoffed. Your reaction was something he somehow didn’t expect you to do after all the effort he put into it. Picking the bags back up, you didn’t spare him a single glance as you walked past him. “You’re cleaning this up, right?”

He let out a breathy laugh, confusing you. But, most of all, completely catching you off guard. “This is so like you. Getting all snarky when you’re uncomfortable as hell,” he got up on his feet and turned around, looking at you from across the room.

“You know nothing about me, Dean.”

“I know you squint your eyes and put on a pout when you’re trying to act mad—just like you’re doing right now,” he took a small step closer, unconsciously raising his hand to let you know he meant no harm. “I know you sing little made-up songs when you’re making dinner, or doing laundry. You think no one can hear you, but you’re actually pretty loud,” he chuckled lightly.

Crossing your arms and shifting your weight to your other hip, you let him step closer and closer with every word he uttered. Impassive as you tried to be, his words still hit you right where it hurt.

“I know that when you try to tell a joke, you will never reach the punchline because you’re already laughing halfway through. And when I see tears running, I know it must’ve been a good one.”

You had to suppress a smile, simply because didn’t know if you really wanted him to win you over. But now that there were just a few feet between you both, it seemed like you didn’t have much of a choice.

“I know you’re cold all the time, even though you swear you aren’t. That’s why you wear my hoodies to bed.”

“How did you—”

“I even know which one’s your favorite,” he smirked. When you bowed your head, he closed what little space there was left between you. “I know your hair smells like coconut,” his fingers smoothed themselves gently, and cautiously, through your locks. “It always lingers in my apartment, hours after you’ve gone home.”

“What’s your point?” you spoke softly, any and all resolve you had dying out as soon as you looked up to meet his eyes.

“I know I have never been worth your love, your friendship or even your time. But in those few moments you decided I was, it made me the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. And you know what else I know?” No longer able to speak, you blindly shook your head. “I know that I am absolutely, undeniably, head over heels in love with you and only you, Y/N.”

“D-Dean,” you managed to stammer out.

“I love you, Y/N, and nothing is going to change that, ever,” he cupped your jaw and brought your face up to look into your eyes.

“I—Dean,” you swallowed thickly. His smile was small, understanding of the emotions overwhelming you. Without another word, his head leaned down and his lips met yours in a gentle, loving kiss.

* * *

It was so cliché of you to think so, but you could have sworn you saw fireworks explode behind your eyelids as you begin to get lost in the kisses Dean was pressing against your mouth. His lips moved, leading yours in a slow, sultry dance. You were acutely aware of every one of his movements, your body reacting to his exploring hands by trembling. His fingertips journeyed up your arms, leaving behind goosebumps and a yearning for more.

He took a hand away from where he was now tracing your shoulder blades, taking your wrist and pressing your digits against his pectoral, urging you to get to know him in a whole new way. Excitement surged through you, hands quickly beginning to roam the expanse of his torso, marveling at the muscles beneath the thin shirt he was wearing.

Your eyes suddenly opened and you pulled away. The surprised, doe-eyed look Dean gave you was almost enough to reel you back in and continue to kiss him, but you _had_ to know.

“D-Dean, what happened with Lisa? Why—” you swallowed thickly, running your hand up his chest and neck, cupping his jaw. You felt the bone protrude under your fingers as he gritted his teeth. “Why did you all of a sudden leave her?”

“I—I was under this pretense that what was in the past was better for me,” his breath shook as he glanced down. Guilt poured over him, but you tilted his chin up, urging him to continue while looking you in the eyes. “Lisa was everything I wanted, but that was when I was 18. Now, I, um, yeah, I fear the future, I fear losing your friendship since it’ll never be the same. But I realized that you’re everything I need. As overused as this phrase may be, you’re my present _and_ my future, Y/N.”

You snorted at his words, prompted a grin from him.

“I’m sorry, for everything,” he swallowed thickly, taking your hands in his and stepping closer to you. “I know I did so much wrong, and I promise you that I will spend every waking moment of my life making it up to you.”

“That’s a little overdramatic, don’t you think?” you clicked your tongue.

“You’re ruining the moment,” he groaned.

“You deserve it,” you pointed out, winking playfully.

“I do, I’m sorry,” he bit his lower lip. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me tonight, dinner and a movie.”

“A date?” you gasped, resting a hand on your chest theatrically.

“Y/N,” Dean whined softly, stomping his foot on the floor.

“I’m kidding,” you laughed softly. “Okay, I’d love that,” you pulled away from him. “Pick me up at eight, okay? I got work to do now. Plus, you got my apartment to clean up.”

Dean was looking like he was going to protest, but you shot him a stern look and he immediately pursed his lips, running to the kitchen to grab the broom. Announcing you’d be in your room writing, you warned him not to interrupt you. You left a hard-working Winchester behind, softly shutting your bedroom door behind you.

Covering your mouth with your hand, you stifled a squeal, giddiness traveling throughout your body. You had never expected for this to happen, but you were coming to terms that Dean made you happier than you could ever begin to describe. Although you also knew that you’d make him pay for doing what he had done.

An hour later, you were completely immersed in your writing and didn’t notice your door pushed opened. You jumped in surprised, glaring a hole through Dean’s skull as he popped his head in. Announcing he’d go back to his own place to change, he blew you a kiss and you shot him a grin, promising you’d be ready by eight as well.

You heard the front door of your apartment shut, the place becoming once again quiet. Meanwhile Dean had been cleaning, his whistles filled your home, but now everything stood at a standstill. You closed the laptop, getting on your feet and deciding to survey the damage he had left behind. Dean was never one to clean properly, you always had to help him out when he decided to tidy up his own apartment. But then again, you were somewhat a clean freak.

You whistled, impressed at the sight before you. The living room was spotless, not a stray petal in sight. Stroking your fingers against the tabletop, you were quite surprised to find that he had even dusted off the surfaces. Your eyes landed on your favorite cushion, which was now the resting place of a single flower, closely resembling the one tattooed on Dean’s shoulder. Underneath it was a note, scribbled in Dean’s handwriting: _I can’t wait for tonight. I love you._

Smiling gleefully to yourself, you placed the flower behind your ear and took the note back with you to your room. Placing it inside your favorite novel, you began to get ready for your first date with Dean.

Deciding to wear flats to make the evening more comfortable, you were slipping them on when Dean’s knuckles rapped on the wooden surface. He’d normally barged in and announce his arrival, but you appreciated this polite side of him. With a small smirk on your lips, you opened the door, relishing in the wide-eyed, floored glanced he gave you when he took you in. You had worn your favorite outfit, one you knew turned heads of men and women alike.

“Dean,” you cleared your throat, smiling smugly to yourself. “You’re gonna stand there all day? Getting hungry over here,” you wrinkled your nose.

“Oh, oh, sorry,” he shook his head, having been knocked out of his reverie.

“Come on, let’s go,” you enjoyed seeing him fidget on his feet, hands not quite knowing what to do. For a moment he hesitated, wanting to extend his hand for you to take, but took it back quickly. You cleared your throat as you both stood in front of the elevators, going to press the ‘down’ button.

“S-sorry,” he sheepishly smiled.

“It’s okay, Dean,” you nudged him. “So what do you have planned?”

“Well, um, what would you like for dinner?” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“How about our favorite restaurant,” you suggested. “You know neither of us can resist the food there.”

“Are you sure?” he tilted his head. “This isn’t a regular outing, it’s our first date.”

“I’m sure, it’s somewhere familiar, where we both feel at ease,” you pressed the ‘lobby’ button and turned your head to look at Dean. “No need to add even more pressure on ourselves by going somewhere neither one of us has been to. We can do that some other time.”

“So, there will be other times,” Dean smirked, his cocky demeanor showing itself.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you shot back. “It was just a figure of speech.”

“Sure it was,” he mumbled. You rolled your eyes, pinching his side and running away, laughing as he chased after you.

The atmosphere around you both somewhat eased after teasing one another a bit and by the time you had exited the building and turned the corner, your arm was laced around Dean’s. His warm hand covered your own as he led you to the restaurant you both loved. The hostess smiled in recognition at seeing you walk in, sitting Dean and you in the most secluded table available.

Despite the easy conversation, there was an underlying tension for most of dinner. Dean was careful of everything he said, his movements, the way he ate. You made sure to continuously dab at the corners of your mouth, not seem too sloppy when chewing, and look him in the eye when he was talking. Without you both realizing it, the subject of Lisa came up once again.

“I don’t want to ask this, but,” you sipped on your wine. “How did she—I mean, how did you tell her? What did she say?”

“Oh,” Dean glanced down at his place, smiling softly as he played with a stray piece of lettuce, stabbing it with his fork. “She was mad, but she did say something about me not looking at her the way I did back when we were 18.”

“Did she throw anything at you,” you leaned forward curiously, smiling mischievously.

“Would you have?” he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, you bet I would’ve,” you scoffed, nodding profusely.

“Yeah, she threw this vase my aunt had given her, but I ducked just in time,” he made a swooping noise as he waved his arm.

“Aw, damn it,” you snapped your fingers.

“Hey,” he bumped his foot on your knee, not liking how much you were teasing him tonight.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” you raised your arms in surrender, laughing softly as he sighed.

Once the waiter had come around with the check, Dean took it and placed his credit card inside. You stayed quiet, knowing he was expecting you fighting him over who was going to pay. Yet you knew this was special for him, he had meant for this to be a date and he intended to pay for everything. Thanking him for the meal, you walked side by side, occasionally bumping shoulders, to the theater.

You picked a 1960s movie, a classic you had always loved since you were a child and your father brought you to the movies every weekend. Despite having seen it more than a few times, it was still one of your favorite films and you were quite ecstatic to find that this place was showcasing it.

Seating yourselves in the furthermost seat, you relaxed back on the chair and smiled softly as the credits began to roll. Consumed by the moving images before you, Dean took advantage of your lack of attention and slid his arm around your shoulders. He felt like a kid again, trying to get the girl he liked to come closer to him.

Before you knew it, your entire right side was pressed against Dean’s and his lips pressed against your temple. You glanced upwards, about to ask him what he was doing. He didn’t give you a chance to, his mouth pressing warmly against yours, immediately parting to take your bottom lip between both of his.

Your hand rose, fingers clutching the neck of his polo shirt and pulling him closer. Your heart was close to bursting out of your chest as you shivered, feeling his fingers graze against your jaw before stroking through the strands of your hair. He pulled you closer to him, tongue licking your top lip and quickly plunging into your mouth as you gasped at the sensation.

There was no one else in the auditorium and your breathing became heavier, matching Dean’s own. His hands gripped your pelvis, pulling you towards him until you found yourself straddling his thick thighs, hips undulating to feel him harden beneath you. His breath was hot as it fanned out across your lips when you pulled away from the kiss. You smiled down at him, heart bursting as he reciprocated the expression.

“I-I love—”

“Shh,” you placed a finger on his lips, shaking your head. You really didn’t want to hear anything right now. You didn’t want to ruin it. Dean’s betrayal and the way he had hurt you, it was hidden somewhere in the back of your mind and hearing him say those words, they could bring it all back. You felt guilt tug at you as he shot you a hurt look. However, you were quick to distract him, pressing a passionate kiss to his mouth, your own tongue plunging inside this time.

He groaned loudly, hands traveling down to your ass, squeezing tightly and harshly pressing you against his stiff length, the denim providing delicious friction for him. With a new determination to make him cream his pants like a teenager, you began to move your pelvis with vigor.

“Y/N,” he stuttered out your name. “D-don’t, I-I’m going to—” he gulped loudly.

“Come, Dean,” you insisted, jerking your hips faster. His fingers dug into your skin, breath coming out in tiny gasps as you moved. With a soft moan, Dean came in his pants, shivering as pleasure pulsed through his stiffened body. You leaned forward, digging your face into his neck and nipping the sweaty, hot skin there. You smirked to yourself at how easily he had come undone under your ministrations.

Standing up, you held out your hand, laughing softly at the awkward way Dean got up, his legs bent at the knee. He scowled at you, muttering incoherencies and refusing to repeat them to you when you asked what he was saying. Excusing himself to go to the bathroom, you waited for him right outside, poking his side playfully when he emerged.

He dropped you off right in front of your apartment, leaning forward to kiss your cheek goodnight. A part of him wanted you to invite him inside, but knew you wouldn’t. Not giving in to the desire to have him pressed against you, you promised to call first thing the following morning and walked into your home, muttering a goodnight.

* * *

It was two weeks later, you and Dean were snuggled up together on his couch, surfing late night channels in sweats and large t-shirts. You were wearing one of his newest hoodies, finding it more comfortable than the ones you had back home. Your head rested on his shoulder and Dean grazed his lips against your forehead, thumb pressing the ‘next’ button absently.

“Hey,” you grabbed the remote from him, muting the television and chucking it over your back.

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” Dean’s eyes widened in curiosity. Your heart fluttered as your mouth ran dry. You coughed and assured the man in front of you that everything was alright when he began to ask so.

“Um,” you gnawed on your lower lip, your eyes rising to meet his green ones. Hands rising to cup his face, you offered your sincerest smile. “I love you, Dean Winchester.”

He didn’t let you sleep that night.


End file.
